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Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Hungry for Ink, Letters and Words


I have an irrational love for empty notebooks with lovely fabric or leather covers.

There's just something about them--filled with blank pages--waiting. They call to me. They're hungry for a ink, for letters and words. I understand that longing. Being full of good intentions, I rescue them from emptiness and lovingly write on the first few pages with my favorite pen.

I have dozens of them, in my desk, on my bookshelf, under my bed. They were empty once. Now they're not. Not empty, not full, just used; and tossed aside when another, beautiful and new one entered my life. I'm not proud of it--the orphaned journals left in my impetuous wake.

They were each assigned a purpose in the past. I let them hold my secrets, track my reading, catch my random thoughts. Some I carried to church, and recorded sermon notes on their pages. Others I used to brainstorm projects or jot down phone numbers, websites, and addresses I didn't want to forget. Some began as the keepers of my poetry -- written before I got too busy to see the world in rhyme.

Most of them are gorgeous. It's not the spiral college-ruled notebooks that capture my affection, but the textured, gold edged affairs. I can stand in the journal section at Barnes and Noble, mooning about for hours---fingering the pages, stroking the covers, wondering if I can justify the expense.

But I've seen the error of my ways--the effect of my selfish, short-lived love. I've learned to re-appropriate these orphaned cast-offs. Once in a while, I dig one out and carry it in my bag, to jot notes in when I'm out observing life - I scribble on the tattered pages, dog ear the corners, and doodle in the margins. Later at home, I transfer those notes to my computer, and write. Soon the notebook pages will be filled, and the journal won't feel so neglected.

Then I can go to Barnes and Noble and buy the Italian leather journal with cream colored pages I've had my eye on, or the red Scrivo leather journal with the pen closure, or maybe the embossed Italian leather journal with the distressed finish...

This post is part of my 8 Random Things About Me response to tags from Lavender Chick and Shannon. Be sure and check back for Random Thing Topic #5 coming soon.


P.S. TAG, Mamaglop You're It! - Share 1 (or 8) random thing(s) about yourself, and turn it (each one) into a blog topic.

6 comments:

Kathleen aka Coffee Mom said...

I've always had a thing for beautiful papers as well. As a child when my friends were spening their money on candy of gum I was at the stationery store pricing out boxes of note cards!!

Robin in CA said...

LOL! Love your post. Reminded me of myself and all my 1/3 and 1/2 filled notebooks shoved in a drawer and forgotten until next time I decide need to have a special notebook for writing some thing special.

When my dh mother died, I can't tell you how many half filled notebooks we found with the beginning of stories and dreams and thoughts. Cornucopia! Eye into the mind.

Keep on dreaming!!!!

robin

childlife said...

Ok... Thought this one was just me. They need to come up with a twelve step program or something! It's those leather ones that get me...

carrie said...

OHHH I totally know the feeling!!!!!!!

susan said...

I can so relate. I love journals and very seldom manage to keep up with them. Either that, I have a hard time taking that first step that seems to be marring those pristine pages...

Donetta said...

I too have a collection. Many gifts several ones I found on clearance. Rarely ever a nice fancy one like that. I know they are so beautiful. I think a lesson is here perhaps I need to value my writing more than I do.

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