Too small to handle and resharpen with a knife.
Not even my pencil extender can extend its life.
Out of the fresh cardboard box it’s born.
Once its usefulness is gone, into the retirement box it mourns.
Sometimes they come out to erase their son’s and daughter’s mistakes.
Or get thrown into forests, deserts, mountains, and lakes.
It’s the cycle of a pencil’s life that never ends.
Acts like a bridge to your mind and hand, never bends.
Why am I writing about tiny pencils, I have some writing to do.
Forget this stupid poem, this post is doo-doo!
Wooden pencils help slow down my thoughts when I write. The smooth grain and cedar scent (especially from my Musgrave Tennessee Reds) makes me feel like I’m writing in a forest. Mechanical pencils and pens make me feel sterile. And electronic devices disconnect my mind and fingers at the speed of light.
The scratches it makes on paper without the threat of breaking the graphite at the slightest pressure, and the strips of wood and graphite coming from my metal sharpener, makes me appreciate the writing process and journey more than the destination. The demons of efficiency is cast aside.
Inefficiency is a dirty word for the “technologically progressive” modern person. They say, “Why not let computers, smartphones, or even the AI of your choice do all the writing for you? Don’t be a narrow-minded, backwards-thinking Luddite. Think of how much time we can save so we can continue scrolling social media or stream our favorite shows longer.”
I reject that notion. Writing with pencil is like sitting at the park, the beach, or the desert at night without taking any photos from your smartphone. Even better when you write at these places. The process is what we writers treasure the most. We learn, sweat, and spill blood so that readers appreciate the sacrifices of those willing to share. Human experiences, not machine responses. If that makes me a Luddite, it’s a badge of honor.
Do you still write with wooden pencil? Any favorite brands?
Red supposedly represents anger or power. It also represents the expendable red shirts in the Star Trek TOS-era. I am the latter for this body is merely a temporary vessel before the afterlife; I try to use it to help others as much as possible.
At my disposal, my red wooden pencil and red notebook are always there to write my ideas and thoughts. I then use my red phone to type and post my blog articles. These three items help me spread my words throughout the online world.
This is not to brag or think I’m better than everyone else. I’m at the point in my life where I want to contribute whenever possible. It’s a calling, not a job. I can make money elsewhere.