I initially drafted a thousand-word article for this post. I wrote it in various apps, using different devices, across many places. Then I decided to scrape it.
I can’t express it the way I wanted – they just came out disjointed and isolated. Not exactly the work I envisioned it to be. It just doesn’t seem…right. Typing on screen may be hindering my expression of ideas, so I wanted to try doodling on the new Field Notes Expedition pack.
Notebooks are meant to be written. But I have no idea what to write in them. As with any new and pristine item, I don’t want to alter its original condition. I want to keep my iPhone protected, safe and secure inside a case. I want to leave the notebook as it is – empty and cold and new.
But that’s not what they’re supposed to perform. They are tangible products to enhance our lives. We shouldn’t be enslaved on worrying too much about its aesthetic condition. When we free ourselves from such concerns, the feeling can be liberating.
Just like miners work under tough environment using denim outfits, the fades and tears are natural and fantastic-looking. Farmers used pocket journals to document their agriculture happenings, the notebooks became rugged and dog-eared, faded and worn. Over time, they defined the products. The denims and notebooks are testament to their environment, culture and lifestyle.
No two denims are the same, likewise for notebooks. While I’m pondering what to write inside this expedition pack, I flipped through the fully-filled up Moleskine by the side of the table. Then it dwelled on me: it doesn’t matter what I write, all I need to do is to write.
Now, I just need to get a new pen specifically just for this Field Notes. The last I tried, my regular pen smudged horrendously, rendering all writings and sketches like a splash of blue painting.