tabula rasa |ˈtäbyoŏlə ˈräsə; ˈräzə|noun ( pl. tabulae rasae |ˈtäbyoŏlē ˈräsē; ˈräzē|)an absence of preconceived ideas or predetermined goals; a clean slate
I get overly excited about little things. For instance, I am currently taking great joy in the fact that I have completed my current black Moleskine notebook. Every single page is practically inked over with notes, scribbles, doodles, and to-do lists.
At my job (my grown-up one, not my cuddle-with-babies one), I am constantly being thrown ideas, tasks, and deadlines. I suppose as a web editor keeping it all in my computer would be the respectable and appropriate thing to do. But, call me old fashioned (many do). I love putting pen to paper. I love watching the ink cut through blank space. And so, like a kid who’s just been promised a new toy for being good, I was itching for my lunch break today so that I could devote it to selecting the perfect new work journal. Friends, say hello to this lovey:
Okay, okay, I know. The cover is something like bad wallpaper in a dentist’s waiting room. BUT. It’s colorful (plus), it magnets shut (plus), and it has flowers on it (plus, plus). PLUS, you open it and it has a pocket for slips of paper (hello, genius) AND you flip to the back and there in pretty script it says, “If we could see the miracle of a single flower, clearly our whole life would change.” HELLO. I work for flower magazine, it’s fate.
BUT IF ALL THAT WEREN’T ENOUGH:
There are like eight different page designs. So every time you flip a page to write, you have a pretty place to write your words. It brings joy to the heart, I tell you. Joy…to…theheart. If I’m not careful, I’m not going to be able to just write my hours and my lists and ideas….I’m going to start writing flippin’ poetry. And I am not that kinda gal. I’m the one who rips it off everybody else.