Yesterday’s use of paper included adding a kestrel painting to my sketchbook, writing down dates to remember in my diary calendar, which is full of paintings and quotes, and writing in my to-do journal, which includes a hodgepodge of notes and ideas to myself. — Photo by Pat Bean
“Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with meaning.” – Maya Angelou
I’m So Sorry My Beloved Trees
I love paper, crisp new pages in a book, cold pressed and textured artist sheets, fanciful stationary, designer pages for my scrapbooking and even the thick block of white for my printer.
But I especially love the blank pages that fill new journals, even more so when their artistic creators have filled bits and pieces of the pages with fairies, flowers, dragons or animal images, and even more when they have left words behind to tickle my little gray cells.
Like these words, which I came across yesterday: “Let’s talk about mountains. You start climbing one, you toil, you sweat, you finally reach the top, and what do you get? Well, along with a sense of accomplishment, of peace, of a job well done, along with the satisfaction of doing what you set out to do … you get a great view of the next mountain. Looming, Challenging, Calling your name.” These words were left me behind to ponder from the journal creators, Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers — And ponder I did.
I wonder if the spirits of trees, like this beauty in Brazos Bend State Park in Texas, are infused into the paper I touch and use daily.
These days, I usually have several journals going at once, the most used being a daily journal in which I write to-do lists (Things I want to keep from this journal get rewritten into my computer journal, which I began several years ago to preserve my writing fingers from cramping), and a journal that I keep beside me when I read, and use to write down quotes and a mishmash of thoughts and ideas.
Even though I love computer journaling, which these days includes this blog, I can’t imagine a day without putting my hands on real paper. It’s an oxymoron for me, because I also love trees. Sometimes I wonder about the origin of the paper I write on, and almost feel the trees talking to me. I hope they forgive me.
The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.
Bean’s Pat: The Blood-Red Pencil http://tinyurl.com/lm2k2pg This is for all the writers who have procrastinated until the deadline monster is close enough to bite off our noses.
Pat Bean's blog 
buy journals made of cotton bond paper — cotton is fully renewable and your journals will last 100 years, 500 years, whatever, so your grands and great grands and even historians will know and love you.
I love paper and journals, and stationary stores. I have more journals than I use and I am always wanting to buy a journal as a present – even though I don’t have a clue if the person getting it wants it. I think I will work in a stationary store in my next life. 🙂 May it is a “Pat” kind of thing.
I admire you for keeping a journal. I hardly seem to find the time to even blog these days.
Thanks Colline. While I’ve always kept a journal, it was sporadically done when I was younger and had children to take care of and meals to cook and etc., etc., so stop beating up on yourself — as I used to do.
I’m trying to be better this year with my daily diary. It sort of petered out last year. The smell of fresh paper, that noise as you riffle through the pages, even the fresh paper dust that falls on first opening a book. Yes, the stuff dreams will fit into.
Jim
I find that my goal to blog three times a week is harder than blogging daily. Perhaps we just need to never turn our writing taps off. I truly enjoy your blog and poetry, by the way. So please keep it flowing.