A fresh piece of paper

in the typewriter. That's what this feels like, this blogging.

I used to love that newness, that anticipation of writing, of creating: I'd put a clean, white sheet into the auto feed of the IBM Selectric (or whatever typewriter I had at the time), or roll it in manually. Reach for the cigarettes and light one, ashtray placed to my right, next to the full cup of coffee I'd just poured. And then contemplate that blank page. Once I started, the cigarette burned to ash, the coffee cooled, and my fingers flew. And paused on the keys sometimes, while I read what I'd written.

So here it is, out there for just anyone to find (or be invited to view).

We'll see how this goes. For now, it's a fresh start.