My mother’s hand would clasp around mine, grasping the pencil, tracing the letters, I learned the art of word structure through my mother’s insistence. And her persistence was critical, for reasons I did not know until I found myself craving the crisp landscape of paper, with an ink pen as my wand, I drafted spells in countless of journals.

Some of my best, some of my most raw, some of my most pivotal writing was cast during school, during church, during bedtime in a dollar store notebook, a brand new text book, a long awaiting napkin

oh, the magic that I created with these phalanges.

Something happens when we put pencil to paper, it’s our flame to our cigarette, our blunt and our spoons. And when we’re riding that high… oh man, you know what I mean?

I mean, we can get high too from stroking the keys, clicking away, upping the word count, page numbers, justifying that our alignments are edged to percision, uploadin’ that bih, showing the world that you ain’t plannin’ on quittin’…

 

but if I may,

I have to remind you,

um, isn’t there something that you’re forgettin’?

 

Can you remember when that bright idea blossomed in our brains

and we made our marks, carved with rocks, chalks, and calk

got pretty name merry with juicy berries to brighten our bearings

remember that first line, that first shape, that first grouping

that first structure

the first spell we cast?

that spell that seeded language

the spell that promoted pensiveness,

the spell that bound all of us as one

the spell that captures our entire existence

 

and it’s persistence

is always incentive

because it is embroidered

somewhere very deep, somewhere very sacred,

somewhere very ancient, something very primal

under the veils of our minds

that spark us upon arrival

 

when we spell cast with our hands,

these magical phalanges of ours,

that activate significant

concentrates

of our human nature,

of our human drive

of our human souls

from our literary roots

that have come to grow

 

so I thought I’d let you know

that maybe it’s time to take a chance

and envelope yourself

in a primordial trance

and embrace the tracing,

the sculpting

the religious imprinting

of our reality of existence,

put that pencil to paper

remember what it is

to be human again…

-B. Brown

 

Thank you for reading 🙂 If you’ve been spending so much time behind the screen, trying to figure out what to write, when to write, how to write, then maybe it’s time to revert back to more basic measures. Our brains act differently when we write, pencil in hand, versus when we type, tap dancing with our fingers. You can reach different areas of your mind because the action is so deeply embedded in our kind. Don’t be afraid to shake off these contemporary measures and get back to your roots. And it’s probably a good idea to develop a healthy balance between the two, alternate. I hope this post helps. Have a beautiful day 🙂

 

(http://www.educationnews.org/technology/research-handwriting-spurs-brain-activity-typing-doesnt/)