Writing, wabi-sabi, and the freedom found in the unfinished

Writing, wabi-sabi, and the freedom found in the unfinished

The first few times I wrote by hand, I was nervous and far too self-aware, but above all, I couldn’t shake the elusive discomfort hovering above me like a dark cloud. I took to yellow legal pads and old leather-bound diaries to find solace, to delegate the page as breathing room for my whirring ideas. I’d read somewhere that writing by hand prevents you from self-editing – the biggest obstacle for most writers – and lets your consciousness lead …