Pieces of paper are important to me. Sometimes they become a song lyric, a blog idea, or simply a reminder of a past event that is meaningful. I have often typed the phrases or sentences into the computer and printed them out . . . but, it simply, is not as much fun or evocative of that moment when I jotted those ideas down.
I try to keep my home office organized. My ideal is to have everything in its place. All the pieces of paper related to each individual project is clearly laid out on a flat surface so I can see them. My desk is clean and contains only papers and files for my current project. Those are my goals. Is it a reality? Rarely. It is not that I am unorganized. I have lots of interests and I tend to delve into a project when something strikes me as interesting. Often, projects get piled on top of other projects. And . . . all these projects involve paper . . . lots and lots of paper.
Being a songwriter and blogger, I often jot down ideas or remembrances of things I see or hear. And, of course, they are on pieces of paper. I keep a small notebook in my purse to write down thoughts or ideas and I recently began typing ideas into the “notes” on my iPhone—however, I eventually transfer these to paper. I also tape up notes around my computer with quotes or words of encouragement. About twice a year I try to organize the main files and papers in my office.
Creative people don’t have a mess. They have ideas lying around everywhere!
— unknown
I often watch Adam Savage’s YouTube channel (Adam Savage’s Tested). He is a maker: he builds things. Adam is often reorganizing his work space—his “cave” as he calls it. He always reminds us that organization is a process. It is not something that can ever be completely finished. His work materials are wood, various parts, tools, and machinery—mine is always paper.
I keep most things on the computer. And, using the computer requires an easily retrievable system—which I don’t have. My problem comes in finding a good classification for the various ideas or pieces of paper. And I have found that for me, things don’t exist if I can’t see them. I prefer tangible pages I can pick up off a shelf. And, that would be easier if I weren’t involved in so many different areas of creativity.
Currently, I have shelves devoted to various projects: notebooks filled with memoir material and shelves for songwriting (ideas, songs in progress, possible songs for a CD). I have shelves and a cubby for blog ideas and research. I have shelves devoted to genealogy stuff. And, in the middle of the floor are the notebooks and manuscript paper for my current “composing everyday” routine. Since that is the most recent endeavor . . . there is no room anywhere for that right now—but I need to have it where I can see it!
Two Old Notes
I keep somewhat of a diary and here are snippets from two entries that might help explain why pieces of paper are important to me.
Sunday. September 14, 2008
So I was going through a box yesterday looking for something. It was a box filled with pieces of paper scribbled with various things. (Yes, I have many boxes like that.) Of course, I had to stop and read a lot of them. Didn’t find what I was looking for, but now I have a bunch of pieces of paper by my computer with things to think about.
I think this was from when I lived in Tuscaloosa—maybe the last year or so we lived there. It says, “I’m afraid at this point I’ll grow old and will never have grown up.” That is a sad thought. I can remember feeling that way. Now I do not feel like that. I believe this whole process of learning to sing, getting out and doing things, going to Nashville, etc. has helped me to begin to grow up. I am glad. I don’t bemoan the lost time really. I am so thankful to be living, learning, and growing now. That is all that matters.
Saturday. Sept. 27, 2008
I am trying to clean my office. Finally I will put these pieces of paper from that box, back into the box. I haven’t had (or will not have) time to think much about them. Here’s a few:
Before my mother died—the last week or so—she would say things that did not make much sense . . . at least not in real life. It was obvious she was ready to go. Here’s one such conversation she had: “How much longer? Are they ready for me? Tell them to explain it to me, I am sick and I don’t understand. Go ask them how much longer it’s going to be.” I remember her saying that. I don’t remember responding verbally to her.
And, I love this one. There was a man who painted our house once for whom English was not his first language. He had an interesting way of saying things. One morning he asked, “Is your life everyday like one big adventure?”
Here’s a description of a car I saw at a gas station: Top material is frayed. windshield has cracks in the front. front bumper hanging off. only one hubcap on one wheel. 3/4 of the side molding has fallen off. windows are down, so there is probably no AC. basketball in the floor. hole in the trunk where the key hole should be.
Here’s two small pieces of paper stapled together. Something I wrote down from a Dr. Phil show. “What’s the internal chaos? Always organizing and still is not better. Find ways to calm yourself. You’re trying to fix an internal problem with an external cure. This does not work. It becomes obsessive.”
Now, back in the box they go.
Two of the notes on my desk at the moment
Art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos.
— Stephen Sondheim (1930-2021) American composer and lyricist
Whether through music, painting, literature, or another artistic medium, it takes courage to expose glimpses of our true self. But it is work that begins as a spark in our heart that resonates most deeply with our audiences. Dig deep . . . and dare to be real.
— Jason Blume, American songwriter, author, and teacher of songwriting
Pieces of Paper
Pieces of paper represent my engagement with ideas and people around me. If something strikes me as important or interesting—I want to write it down and keep it for further thought. It might just turn into my next song or blog! The following quote sums up why pieces of paper have significance for me.
“Engaging with my environment opened my eyes to the never-ending flow of ideas. But there’s even another way to find inspiration, on that I have leaned on more and more as I’ve gotten older and more experienced: DIGGING RIGHT THROUGH THE BOTTOM OF THE RABBIT HOLE, by which I mean, going as deep as humanly possible on something you care greatly about, something you can’t stop thinking about.”
― Adam Savage (b. 1967) American special effects designer and fabricator, actor, educator, and television personality and producer
quote from his book Every Tool’s a Hammer: Life Is What You Make It
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