Moleskines in the mail today*. It was unexpected and overjoying. I'm thinking of letters I've written. I'm thinking how, like some people remember clothes, I remember empty journals I've been given.
The History of the Moleskine inserted in the ones I've just received says it is 'a reservoir of ideas and feelings, a battery that stores discoveries and perceptions, and whose energy can be tapped over time.'
It's a good sales pitch, an audacious one too, considering that all paper is potential.
But today they were entirely right. I am elated, pulled back and forward, restless with energy.
From the time I opened that package, the day's been good.
*Did I forget to mention they were a gift? I forgot to mention they were a gift. They were.