"I didn't have any agenda or plan when I started writing stuff"
About this Quote
A declaration of creative freedom sits at the center of that line: a willingness to begin without destination, to trust the act of writing as a form of discovery rather than delivery. It rejects the notion that art must serve a thesis, a cause, or a tidy narrative architecture. Instead, it honors curiosity, impulse, and the unruly emergence of meaning. Starting without an agenda creates space for surprise, language can lead thought, not merely adorn it; rhythm can pull emotion forward before logic has named it.
There is also humility in admitting absence of plan. It resists the ego’s urge to appear strategic or prescient. So many celebrated works are backfilled with explanations that make the journey sound inevitable. Here, the process is honest: fragments gather, patterns surface, and only later does coherence appear. That openness invites happy accidents, images colliding, tones shifting, and oddities that would never survive a strict blueprint. Agenda narrows; exploration widens.
This stance does not dismiss craft. It reorders craft’s place in the chronology. Composition arrives first as play, listening, accumulation. Editing, framing, and structure come later, shaping the raw material into something communicable. Meaning is not imposed; it is recognized and refined. The result can feel more alive because it wasn’t suffocated by intention before it could breathe.
There is risk, of course: meandering, dead ends, an occasional muddle. But risk is the price of originality. And the absence of plan is not the absence of taste. Intuition is a kind of compass, refined over time by attention and experience. By beginning without a manifesto, the work remains porous to the world, open to influences, accidents, and textures that preplanning would filter out. Critics may later extract themes and agendas; the artist’s task is to remain present to the moment of making. Start, listen, follow the energy, and allow purpose to emerge from the practice itself.
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