What happens when the distractions are taken away?

My electricity got cut off this morning. Three hours, without the internet and its dangerous siren's calls; no emails, no blogs, no links. No music in the house. Nothing. (I have paid my bill by the way. It was a scheduled cut, to replace something extremely vital apparently. I have a spiffy new set of wires now.)

Instead of staring at the computer, I sat with my thermos of tea, at the kitchen table for best light, and an A3 pad and stared at the brilliant-white page. There is something delicious about A3. It invites bigger ideas than A4 in my mind and there’s space for more of them. (Plus walking around the house with an A3 drawing pad makes me feel Creative, but then as we have established, I do not get out much...)

And then I started jotting. Just random notes and instant thoughts scrawled onto the page before I analysed them too far and over-reasoned them. A basic premise had been in my head for a few days, but I hadn't really played it out yet. By the time the fridge and freezer kicked back on, the page was full. Of plot. And down the side there were side notes (yes, where else would you find such notes?); possible names, things to be looked up, alternative paths to be considered.

I can see that sometimes I need a window of silence and no distractions. And sometimes I need a blank page and a licence to scribble randomly. I think that such sometimes are going to have to be a more regular fixture. Luckily, I now know where the fuse box lives...

This Morning’s Distraction Tools; NONE!! (were you not listening?)