This post is my entry for October’s IndieWeb Carnival being hosted by Marisabel. The infinity concept of a blank page is an interesting one to explore. I’ve heard it in many flavors, but the assertion that a blank page is either terrifying or liberating to a writer feels like a layered point of discussion to the first point. In my case, the combination of these lead to just about every psychological outcome imaginable. The infinite expanse of a blank page is more rooted in the digital realm of writing. Sure, you could continue to feed paper into a typewriter, or turn the page in a physical journal, but eventually you’d reach an end. In the same way that infinite canvas apps like Figma or Freeform have shifted designers to think of this boundless landscape, writers have felt this in word processors for many decades at this point. It is this lack of any boundary to tether to that makes it both exciting and terrifying. Like an astronaut in the expanse of space, you can go anywhere, and at the same time, nowhere all at once. These Indieweb Carnival writing prompts serve such a valiant purpose in this way. I have a running list of writing ideas (both on paper and in my brain). Some days, I can sit down, open up iA Writer and the words flow through my fingers to form the pageless scroll of text effortlessly. Other days, the blinking cursor in a sea of emptiness is crippling to my brain. This isn’t unique to the lack of boundaries that digital tools foster. I can feel just as blank on a blank page of a physical journal. Prompts like Carnival themes serve the same purpose as journaling prompts or framing like keeping a gratitude journal. It’s a starting point that provides some reduction in the barrier to entry. That’s comforting, however, it’s a crutch nonetheless and one that this month’s theme has brought into high resolution. There are ways to create boundaries to the page when none exist. I’ve read guidance that you should aim for a length based on word count. Other guidance recommends you write for an amount of time and whatever makes it onto the page is the output. I think all those are just new forms of the same crutches that attempt to deal with our uniquely human complication of thoughts. Video games have had this lack of boundary in ‘open world’ mechanics for some time now. Animals in the wild have had this since Earth has existed. Somewhere along the way, our overthinking has produced this anxiety of our thoughts needing a path to begin. For the next few months, I’m going to try something new (to me, at least). I’m going to begin free-form writing sessions without a word count or a timer. The goal will be to write until I have something in a good enough form to publish. If there’s a prompt, I’ll stop when I have answered the prompt to my own satisfaction. If there’s an idea that I jotted down that I’m writing about, it will be published when I feel like I’ve articulated that thought to something another human can digest.