In the last year, I have used every trendy writing instrument that I have read about. Fisher Space Pens, G2 Gel Pens, Uni-Ball Signos, Uni-Ball Power Tanks, and even the old standby, the fountain pen.
In the last week, I have re-discovered the joy of the pencil. There is something liberating in using something so simple.
It’s old-fashioned, but I love it.
Have you sharpened a pencil today?
Pen glides across paper, silently. Simple meeting notes are an act of pleasure. No resistance to ideas; paper begging me for more, more.
What do I write?
What is worthy of this paper?
Gel ink glistens on the page. The page is waiting, wanting more.
The idea.
A fury of writing. Paper absorbing words, a glistening trail of thought left behind as ideas move forward, a mind empties onto the paper.
Oh, the paper.
Then, like an impatient lover, I must wait for the ink to dry. Eager for the next page, ideas flowing forward, tide unstoppable.
All for this paper, this sensual paper.
Moleskine.
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