Did you see the new Field Notes Snowblind journal? Magic ink. MAGIC!
I need someone to save me from buying one. I have no self-restraint when it comes to journals. I have a long history of falling in love with them, purchasing them, but then, instead of using them, stroking them lovingly and placing them in a safe place, never to see the light of day again. What could I possibly write that would equal the specialness of their pages?
Last year I tried to throw out three storage boxes of pristine journals dating back to 2000, but my mom rescued them and now she has three storage boxes of journals in the bottom of her wardrobe, because clearly my mom has an even bigger hoarding problem than I do.
But the danger I’ll buy the Snowblind journal is real and present, because after years of relying solely on Evernote on my tablet I’m actually using dead tree notebooks once more. My friend Chris from Stumbling Over Chaos started doing awesome art journaling and she made me yearn for paper and ink. I’m so grateful. There’s something soothing, reassuring, about writing on paper, the rich, dark ink line glistening in loops and whorls . . . it’s a kind of meditation. Now if only I had something worth saying to write in them . . .