Back in my school days (many, many years ago), I LOVED going back-to-school shopping. The new clothes were nice, but for me it was all about the new school supplies; pens, pencils, markers... and the paper. My favorite part was the brand new notebook. Pages and pages of paper with clean, straight lines... no indentations... just waiting for me to imprint my words upon them. There's something almost magical when you first take a pen to the paper and mark it as your own. These are MY words, in MY hand. I print my name proudly. Or handwrite it in cursive, if I'm in the mood. Pages of neat notes, and then on the following page are scribbles of my daydreams during class. Sketches and doodles and bits of poetry. I'm no longer in school, but I find that there's still something special about a brand new notebook. Only now I find that I primarily use them for inspiration. I use some for journals and diaries. And others as my sketchbooks. And still others are simply a jumbled mess... filled with lists, notes, half-thought out plans & sketches. These are my favorite notebooks of all. Over and over I dump my mind onto the pages, trying to force my hand to keep up with the speed of my thoughts. Words and pictures that only I can decipher. Sometimes I look back through the pages, tear them out and throw them away. But often, I use the pages to reflect upon. I smile to myself, knowing exactly what I was thinking and feeling at the moment my hand flew across the page.
And there's the extra-special feeling when I find that I've filled up an entire notebook with these scribblings, and it's time for me to start with another brand-new notebook or pad of paper. Because each time, I still get that giddy feeling of a clean start. Wondering what will happen, and waiting for the possibilities to unveil themselves on the page that lies before me.