>i have a problem with journals… meaning, i like to buy them, and buy a lot of them.
i don’t however, write in them.
don’t ask me why, ’cause i really can’t explain it.
i think it’s the possibility of the unexplored potential housed in an empty journal.
that, and i think they are pretty.
at some point last year, i forget when exactly, i bought a $5 sketchbook, with 60 lb. premium recycled paper.
it’s not really a journal, like the one i use to write-write in. it’s turned into my inspiration catcher.
when i see a tweet with a pithy quote, or when i read a phrase in a book that moves me,
it gets jotted down. when i read a blog post that resonates, it get’s printed out and glued/taped to the pages
of the journal.
it’s nearly always with me, and i don’t always write in it. but in the even that i need it, it’s there.
there’s a section there for ‘book’s i must read’, and another page or two set aside for blog ideas.
i’m finding that the older i get, the more i’m turning into that lady that is always scribbling in notebooks.
or crocheting. well, i’m doing one or the other.. always.
what is really cool about it is when i’m having a particularly trying day, i can just pull it out, flip through the pages and find something that sings to me. (i’m a sucker for a good serenade.)
what sings to you?