Monday, April 17, 2006
A fine poet gave
...me a moleskine a short while ago. It came in the mail, alone in a package, not a word of explanation to be found. I suspect it's a way of telling me to get to work. I've been writing in Hilroy 120 page wireless neatbooks and the like for as long as I've been writing. Not very classy, but functional. I didn't think it would matter what I wrote in as long as I had a pen and a surface on which to write. Boy was I wrong. I've spent the last week getting to know my moleskine. Sometimes I catch myself staring at it. Sometimes I pick it up and mull over its texture, weight and size. My handwriting looks so different on those creamy pages. So alien. Oddly enough, I believe it's had an effect on the writing itself.