Finitia
Finitia fih-nih-sha: The melancholy of completion To write is to burn with the fire of vision. The blank page roars in silence; it rages with invisible chaos. You need only touch pen to paper to make it blossom. Your creation starts out vague, awkward, unsure of itself; but soon it tells you the shape it shall take. The work gains momentum and your mood brightens. You give it your thoughts, feelings and memories; you forget your troubles; you abandon yourself to the joy of flow. Soon the gaps fill in, and you have a first draft. But you see its flaws too well; so you revise the work, and revise it again, impatient with its imperfections. You attack each draft with a red pen and a critic’...