Thanks to revision, I can stand in front of a blank canvas on the easel, pick up a brush, and begin to paint without hesitation. I know that whatever mark I make can be painted over. I know that repainting is always a possibility, whether it happens in the same morning, a day later, or months into the future.
Thanks to revision, I can sit down in front of the computer and begin to write a blog even when my thoughts are jumbled and I can’t find the right words. I know it’s best to just start typing, getting those words packed into sentences and sentences into paragraphs.
It’s just a draft, and I can write as many drafts as I need to. That’s what makes writing easy.
Of course there are aspects of painting and writing that are not easy, but thanks to revision, all is possible.
I take this desire for revision too far, though. I try to revise my life, and unfortunately, life doesn’t offer revision.
Just as I lighten a color on the canvas, I rephrase a sentence I spoke to a friend on the phone. I am always editing myself, looking to improve on my speech and actions even when speaking to a caller who has the wrong number.
It’s fun to tinker, to fix stuff. Make the sentence sharper, the image clearer. It’s amazing, really, to travel the path from rough inarticulation to X.
That’s one trick I use when I can’t think of the word I want. I stick an “X” in its place. I can come back later and find the right word. But more likely, I won’t need that word because I’ll have found a whole new way to say what I want to say. Or I’ll edit that sentence out completely.
Cutting out excess is one of my favorite things to do. Like finding a sculpture inside a piece of marble, I search for the essence by cutting out the fat.
Likewise, after I finish a conversation with someone, I often wish I could go back and cut out the excess. I feel at times that my words are foaming up and out of my mouth. They could use some fine shaping, a suppression of exuberance.
I plan my day in the morning and I edit it as it passes, especially any interactions I have with others. I find that whatever I blurt out spontaneously could always be improved with revision.
Is this why I stay cooped up in my house and studio all the time? It’s a safe place where I can edit my creations, unlike the world outside, which offers no such tools.
I get out of the house and take a walk at Sapsucker Woods on a 50 degree day
