By Adam Taylor-Smith
A little while ago Pete Cain said your hand isn’t just a facilitator for your thoughts, it’s an extension of them. I think it’s difficult to appreciate what that means until you’re forced to scamp for 90 minutes.
I can easily spend half a day slowly meandering through thoughts in my mind, not believing I have any that are worthy of being written down. But when you’re forced to scamp without stopping, you realise how untrue that is.
With no mental filter, the blank page becomes less daunting. Thoughts go direct form synapse to paper. Under the pressure of the clock, your hand scampers over the page and you find yourself starting to draw things before you even know how they’re going to finish. The results are as much of a surprise to you as to someone watching over your shoulder.
Of course, 90% of your scribblings are as nonsensical and indecipherable as if somebody lifted the top of your head off and peered inside during any other creative process. The difference, however, is that you can flick through, reflect and share the results.
The part of your mind that has standards and taste, the part that causes embarrassment and self consciousness, has been bypassed. Little elusive thoughts that would have flown by and hit the mental scrap heap are now there for all to see in glistening fresh sharpie ink.
I’ve got no idea why it’s called scamping. As far as I knew before I got to SCA a ‘scamp’ was a cheeky little kid. The thing is, a cheeky child has no mental filter and they don’t care what they sound or look like. So maybe it isn’t that different.