Finished January with 30 stories. Some are good. Some are not. None, however would be considered wastes of ink.<\/p>\n
I definitely approach these handwritten stories differently than when I type them straight into the computer. There’s a dreamy, fable-like undercurrent to them. Though none of the stories are linked to any other, you can see an overarching cohesiveness. Even the two non-fiction piece, the one about the Corvette Stingray and the Day 27 essay, fit the themes quite nicely.<\/p>\n
At some point, counting may have gotten confused, so I’ve had to define it: the days will not coincide with the days of the year, but with the number of stories. So when I say Day 26, it’s the 26th story, regardless of how many actual days into the year it is. Since I only took one day off in January, Day 26 is actually January 27. Here’s a brief quote from that story:<\/p>\n
The door opens, and the first of the demons emerges.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Day 27 was a non-fiction essay:<\/p>\n
Knowing how a thing is done is not the same as knowing how to do a thing.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Day 28 incorporates something that happened to me a long time ago, when I was attacked while working the night shift at a gas station.<\/p>\n
He’s something of a poet. He sees the beauty in the flaws and the flaws in the beauty.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Day 29 is all about a temp employee and the guy who’s supposed to be training her.<\/p>\n
It was her eyes, he finally decided, that he couldn’t forget. They were too far apart, or too narrow, or two coppery in color.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
I ended January with Day 30:<\/p>\n
It is a big house built of dream stuff and whispers and champagne.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Reaching February, I gave up the small Moleskines for a regular-sized Moleskine. I’d gotten used to the unlined pages, but now there are lines. I still crammed three lines into the very last so as not to use only the top line of a page. Funny thing I’ve noticed, I tend to write to, or very near to, the bottom of the last page, and I subconsciously adjust my handwriting as I’m nearing the end of the story to make it fit. There was a moment of panic today when I almost spilled onto the next page, as the Virgo in me would demand I start tomorrow on a fresh page.<\/p>\n
Here’s a bit from Day 31:<\/p>\n
He saw my hands already on the back of my head and said, “So good of you to come quietly.” He glanced at my discarded weapons.<\/p>\n
“That wasn’t the plan,” I admitted.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
My aim for February: to do a bit more non-fiction. One rambling about Corvettes and an essay on secrets may have been enough for January, for the start of this project, but that will not be sufficient going forward.<\/p>\n
I’m more and more conscious of the fact that, as a whole, this is an art project. I’m starting to think of what may or may not happen along the way to this–I’ll say it now–collection. I don’t actually plan to collect them. But they are, naturally, a collection, and at the very least connected by the InkStains project and all it entails. I am very much enjoying the process as well as the results.<\/p>\n
Here, I reissue the challenge I gave at the start: come up with your own variation of InkStains and join me. Get a pen. Get some paper. Write a thing down.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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