Those us out there who use Moleskine, we do have an attachment to them — in front of us stands a finite number of lines to trace the circles of our own stories. A sense of ownership of the words written within, even though the book itself is just another product in the current of commerce and stream of marketing. That fact aside, there are some elements about the book that make it the only option, at least for now. (After all, Innovation is always close by.)
Some of those elements include: a pocket to collect the scraps of experiences, and a hard cover that protects the pages from the elements and travails of travel. It’s a sturdy thing, at least on the construction side. Even when I’ve crammed the pocket full or ripped out blank pages for quick notes and such, I find that the elastic-banded pages get out there and back, with lines to spare for an address, a number, or an anecdote (rarities in this era of “Let-Me-Get-Your-Number-In-My-Phone-So-I-Can-Scroll-Over-It-Every-Few-Days-Good-To-See-You-Again.”)
I have four completed books. Some with more substance than others. Two-and-a-half books from last summer alone. Mostly, and ideally, it serves as the analog version of this digital mess of a blog. The strands of revelation rest somewhere within, and often it takes time for the shards of scribblings to make an impression. Re-reading last summer’s notes as calendrical coincidence to the days ahead serves as reflection on the future tense. Always in motion, though sometimes at a different spin rate than the common orbit. Such is the (As-Advertised) Moleskine way, I suppose.
In any event, nearly lost in the shuffle, but always close at hand, will be the book waiting to be written. Something’s got to keep you anchored in this whirling dervish of a world, and if you can’t tell your own story, whose can you tell?
Posted by ajm at June 26, 2005 07:28 AM