The Joy of Blank Pages
I value words. I have them all over my house and I do love writing them.
This Christmas, two friends have given me new journals and I find myself marveling at the sheer beauty of blank pages. There is so much promise being offered.
One journal was purchased on a trip to England. I’m delighted that she was traipsing around the moors and thought of me.
The other is probably the most lovely piece of leather I have ever seen. The journal is Italian. The leather embossed with flowers and the paper is so fine, I know my pen will glide over it.
I’ve tried to keep journals on my computer . . . and then it turns into work. I throw thoughts upon the screen. But to journal on paper? It is as if I’m celebrating the act of thinking and I like starting my day off with words of gratitude. So, one gift will be used to reason out a new series and the other will become my gratitude journal for as long as it takes to fill it.
More importantly, I will think about the friends who gave me these gifts every time I open their pages.
Blank pages. I can think of no better way to start off 2019.