The Picasso Answer

I've had a lot of people ask me about writing, about continuing to write during chemotherapy.  Will I be able to write, I've been asked.  Well, yes and no is one accurate and necessary answer.  There are predictable patterns of incapacity in the course of chemotherapy treatments, and they're not to be trifled with, they are no joke, and anyway they impose themselves, there's nothing I can do about it.  But they go away.  And life and vitality seem to return, however provisionally, and use of the imagination seems warranted again.  Or at least that's how this first cycle of treatment, some 11 days in, has seemed to go so far.

But I heard recently an answer to the question that I like far more.  Picasso is reputed to have said it, though I don't know when, where, to whom, or in response to what.  Who cares.  It's the right answer, and right answers are beyond citation.  It's this:

If they took away my paints, I'd use pastels.  If they took away my pastels, I'd use crayons.  If they took away my crayons, I'd use a pencil.  If they stripped me naked and threw me in a cell, I'd spit on my finger and draw on the wall.