Computer vs. Paper

I love technology. Looking at new gadgets. Seeing the possibilities of our future. I spend a lot of time on my computer and the Internet. Mostly for editing, writing, and research but sometimes for just good ole time-wasting fun like games and social networking. So i’m no stranger to the computer and certainly not one to blame the World’s problems on computer usage. But there are times when i crave paper because some things, darn it, just don’t relate well on a computer. Like doodling. You can’t doodle on a computer. Or write notes in the margin. Or draw a heart around the name of someone you love. All those bits and bytes tend to make computers rather straightforward and business-like. They don’t lend themselves well to messiness. They’re neat, clean, and orderly – and that never varies. It’s like a sunny, blue sky, seventy-five degree day – 375 days a year. Sigh. I rather like the seasons. And paper. It’s evocative to write on paper. On a computer i feel compelled to write in perfect sentences and complete thoughts. If it’s wrong - DELELTE. But on paper, i ramble. I scribble. It’s as if i catch the thought just as it emerges, before it becomes structured logic. It’s raw. Like a drop of water. Before it drips. Writing on paper allows me to drift and wander. And there’s something about putting thought to paper that makes me loath to throw it away. I might scratch through a word or line, but seldom do i ever throw a sheet of my ramblings away, embarrassing as some of it is. I’m loath because there is some little part of me in all those squiggly lines and dots. They represent a part of my essence. A glimpse of who i am. On a computer, you never touch the words. They are physically separate from you. Oh sure. Your fingers may strike the keys, but it is the computer which puts the words on the screen. We are disassociated physically from the writing.


I love the smell of paper. Yes i know. An environmental hazard – all those bleaches and chemicals. But i touch a tree every time i write, a beautiful pine that grew in the Sun and Rain. So when i run my hand over this smooth, white surface – i think – pine forest. And the action of writing. Oh – to have a really fine pen whose ink flows smooth like cream. That is sensational, a pleasure, and something like magic. Have you ever focused as you write? Watched your hand move the point of the pen till it contacts the white surface of the paper? Your mind registers a thought, your hand moves, pen’s ink flows. Magical!

Some people may look at their handwriting and find fault – but it is our character that comes through in our writing. We want to think that we are perfect; the reality is – we’re not. But we are beautiful in our mistakes. So i keep writing. Pen to paper. Lovely.