We used chalkboards when I was in primary school and it was fun. Our teacher would ask someone to write his notes on the board so that the rest of the class could copy. Though it wasn’t the prettiest thing to do, chalk on my head, chalk on my school uniform, I would volunteer. I not only wanted to show off my handwriting but genuinely enjoyed the process of putting down and together, words.
Recently I began to get a glimpse of why this was important to me. When people talk, myself included, there’s an explosion of words and letters, all the letters are suspended, some stick together, others fall apart much quickly and it’s hard to see everything. You might think I’m concentrating on what you are saying but I’m desperately trying to capture, like a camera, the words I see floating around me. I need to hold them, to gather and bring them all down on paper, arrange and rearrange until they make sense.
When I write, when I sketch, when it’s written, when it’s sketched, I see better, I think and understand quicker. The words don’t float into each other, they don’t fade away, they are right there, concrete and real.
There are exceptions, I talk to some people and the words I see are crystal clear, but these are icing on the cake, I cannot chase exceptions. That’s why as much as I can, I carry pen and paper wherever I go.
I even have a chalkboard at home now *chuckles*