Their siren song calls to me -- at times shiny and new on professionally-stocked bookstore shelves ... maybe an unexpected treasure tucked in amongst the hodgepodge of inexpensive dollar store selections ... or, perhaps, stacked with an ambitious array of department store back-to-school supplies.
Blank books are seductive. They tempt me with their oh-so-pretty covers, pristine pages, and clever embellishments, such as pen loops or elastic closures. They tease me with unrealized potential: pithy words I might write, meaningful quotes I might collect, beautiful drawings I might create. They lure me in with the appeal of a fresh start, a new development, a goal to meet.
Blank books are filled with promise, invoking visions of a cosy café, a cup of good coffee, and time to write. They have a tactile appeal entirely different from a computer or the latest gadget, turning creating into a physical experience: ink flowing purposefully onto the page, or a picture emerging from deft pencil strokes.
No matter how plugged-in or device-driven I may become, there will always be a special place in my world for blank books.
Are you a fan of blank books?
(Original post in Alphabet Salad.)
Laurel Regan blogs about life as she lives it at Alphabet Salad - "an eclectic assortment of rants & ramblings."
More from living