A Week in the Notebook: Five Dated Entries
Five days copied straight from my notebook, with the dates left in. Small weather, small errands, a letter and a loaf. This is what an ordinary week looks like.
Soft pastel writer's blog. Slow journaling, quiet typography.
Soft pastel writer's blog. Slow journaling, quiet typography.
Five days copied straight from my notebook, with the dates left in. Small weather, small errands, a letter and a loaf. This is what an ordinary week looks like.
At the start of the year I made no list at all. Looking back from September, here is what a plain, unpromised January turned out to be like to live through.
I have tried and dropped a dozen routines. The one that stayed is almost embarrassingly small: I write tomorrow's first line before I go to bed.
I did not set out to care about paper. Then a pen bled through a page and I lost an evening to the question. Some modest notes on ink, weight and a good surface.
Saturday and Sunday with nowhere to be. What I actually did with them, hour by hour, and why I wrote it all down afterwards instead of posting a photograph.
Twelve months of writing three pages by hand before anything else. What the notebooks look like now, what I skipped, and the small surprises I did not expect.