Ready to begin, eventually

An original satirical commentary about buying equipment for a new hobby.

Before I could draw a leaf, apparently I needed a professional carrying case. Before the carrying case, I needed to decide which pencils deserved to travel in it. The leaf, inconsiderately, remained outside doing nothing to assist my research.

The catalogue understood me perfectly. Here was the beginner's collection, the serious beginner's collection and the collection for beginners who did not wish to remain beginners. Each promised a more convincing version of the person I hoped to become. None included an afternoon.

I examined hinges. I compared compartments. I learnt enough about the lining of a pencil case to have a dull conversation with almost anybody. Meanwhile, the tree continued to manufacture subjects without consulting the recommended materials list.

At last I found an ordinary pencil in a kitchen drawer and took a sheet of paper outside. The leaf was harder than the catalogue. It had turned slightly while I was arranging myself, and the first line went confidently in the wrong direction. No choice of carrying case could explain what I had failed to notice.

I have since bought a better eraser. It performs a task I can describe. The grand case is still in the catalogue, where it continues to offer the delightful possibility of being ready without having begun.

Examine the methods the writer uses to criticise endless preparation for a new hobby.