Digging

I was looking through some older writing and enjoying some of the stuff I found. Some of it I recognize as necessary practice that got me to where I am but serves no purpose now, and some of it I think still holds up. It's interesting to look at things that were written in bad times or strange times with some distance, and appreciate them from the outside as just writing, instead of what they were at the time. Which, were I to say it aloud, would make me sound like the high school kid who wrote them. I think what I mean to say is I've always loved to write, but now I need it for different reasons. Now it's just a part of me.

One thing I always love is finding something I simply don't remember writing. Often it's a note I wrote on the closest piece of paper, a reminder for later that probably wouldn't ever be used. Finding these notes is like finding money in the pocket of an old jacket, but way funnier. It's like a time-capsule self-gift of brain blabber.

This was something for a cartoon I wrote half an episode of before getting bored of it. That's another thing I used to do a lot. I'm happy that with age came patience to stick with an idea until it's finished. Here is the entire contents of a file called "parts that worked", which I guess was salvaged from some larger first attempt that didn't:

MARK
"If you keep angering the man, they eventually
censor you into a pale version of your former self.
Isn’t that right, Mickey?"

PAN TO other side of room, where MICKEY MOUSE sits.

He holds up his hands.

MICKEY MOUSE (POUTING)
"They took away my middle fingers!"

I read that and died, partly because I really don't remember it at all. Soon I'll probably post some more things- notes, poems, pieces, entire objects. I feel this is as good a place as any.