moleskine, volume one.
I collect notebooks like some people collect shoes. That might be an exaggeration, but the number of folders, papers, and journals that are scattered throughout boxes and stuffed in drawers in my room outnumber my shoes ten to one. I always have at least one in my purse, and have countless more notes and scraps of paper with scribbled thoughts on them. I have spiral bound notebooks dating back to when I was eight, sketchpads from when I was five, and some artwork in folders from when I was three. I've always been a documenter, artist, and journaler, but I never found a notebook that fit me just right. And then I received a glossy moleskine for my birthday, pages creamy and clear and the entire journal brimming with promise. What else to say? It clicked. Perhaps it's silly, but I do my best work in it. I love writing, sketching, and generally just jotting down everything on the sheets of paper bound together in leather. Here's a peek into the many pages of the book that I love...all of them filled. Now? Onto volume two.
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