10 September 2005

Fire-dancer lost

"Standing in front of the mirror to sketch in this strip, I was glad I work in the privacy of my own home."--Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes Tenth Anniversary Book, p. 146

So, over the past year and some, I have gotten into journal writing. I thank my very good friend JHVO for starting me on the habit. The thing that helps incredibly is the small little notebook that I am able to carry around anywhere I go. These notebooks are courtesy of none other than Moleskine [check the link on the sidebar to the left]. I value my 'skines very much. I've been writing in one since 11 July, 2004. About every four months I finish one and start out new. Yesterday however, I lost no. 4. Slipped out of my pocket somewhere between Political Science 150 prior to Calculus. Two months of my life have just disappeared somewhere on campus. Talk about feeling a void. I was wiggin' out.

As worried as I was I have found peace. A couple of things that helped me out. I read an article of the New York Times that lifted my soul. And here's a link to a site that is mentioned in said article. Once again, inspiration can be found in the weirdest of places. Another site.

I know that the Moleskine cannot be replaced. I hope it will be refound in my presence. Having left my name, address and phone number I still have hope it will be returned. Though I can't expect its return. Having dwelled on this for over 12 hours now, I am feeling much better. A half used notebook will find itself in the hands of someone I don't know at all. What's wrong with that? Nothing. My thoughts, experiences, quotes from others and opinions are written down in that thing. Someone will get to know me through that Moleskine. I'm okay with that.

Why do we write? I write to explain me to myself. To help discover who I am. I like to keep track of myself and my thoughts. It's second nature to me now. I write not to keep things hidden. I write to share who I am. These books will eventually go to the people I love. Somehow, I will become real in the imaginations of those people. I might influence them as a friend. We have the ability to reach out to who knows how many people. I write to leave myself behind. I will be imagined as me. I cannot ask for anything else.

To those who write: You will be found.

1 comment:

Stephie said...

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