Has anyone else seen the paper
adverts on yahoo? I have seen two of them and the one about the paper pusher
bust had me laughing out loud for a while. They are warm and a bit quirky and I
enjoyed them. I followed their link to their website and to their facebook page
where I proceeded to like them and I left them a message telling them how much
I enjoyed the advert about the pusher. Do you know what happened next? They
sent me a message back thanking me for my comments. I love it when a company
interacts back with me.
I love paper. I am not alone in
this. There is an immense pleasure in holding a book, reading a book, turning
the page and feeling that very slight or sometimes intense tingle of
anticipation. Will the chapter end? Will I have to put it down to go clean the
litter box like I promised myself I would?
Do I get at least four more pages until I have to go unload the
dishwasher? Does she fire the gun? Will he kiss her? Did the bullet hit the
dog?
Sometimes the book is not that good, interesting, alluring; sometimes you
just want to put it down and move on to some other adventure. I cannot do that.
I must trudge on hanging on to the hope that it will get better. That I will
find a character I care about. I started it, I will finish it. I will confess
it took me 6 months to read through an Anne Rice book. I was in agony. I just
wanted to walk away. Leave the book for some other lover of her writing at my
local Goodwill store. Pick up something else and begin anew. I finished it and have
not read another; LOVED the movie Interview with a Vampire though.
Not only books, letters, I love
letters; the whole process of writing it, addressing the envelope, sealing it,
stamping it and dropping it in the post box. When I was younger, before my teen
years I wrote letters to friends and my cousin. As a young teenager I had a
horse and that was my passion but after we moved and I did not get another
horse I went back to writing to my dearest friends.
They seldom responded but I wrote anyway, then to my grandmothers and occasionally aunts and uncles, parents and in-laws and one great uncle. I had boxes of stationary. Different patterns and colors and sizes depending on my mood, what I had to write about or even who it was being written to. Some of it was scented. I enjoyed the feel of the paper as I folded it, the way it sounded as my pen glided across the paper. Turn it over or not turn it over and continue writing? I enjoyed receiving letters just as much however I seldom did. I remember I could not wait to grow up and graduate from the ball point pen I had to use to the fountain pens my parents and grandmother used. Having ink stains on my fingers and blotches of ink on my letters.
I have fountain pens now and baskets of note cards and no one to write to. It seems they all want quick messages and texting. No time in their lives for sitting and writing and still no responses to the letters I do send out. I might as well put them in a bottle and drop them into the sea. I will have the satisfaction of writing and will not expect a reply and will therefore avoid the devastating crush of believing no one cares for me. Silly but it is rejection and it does hurt.
They seldom responded but I wrote anyway, then to my grandmothers and occasionally aunts and uncles, parents and in-laws and one great uncle. I had boxes of stationary. Different patterns and colors and sizes depending on my mood, what I had to write about or even who it was being written to. Some of it was scented. I enjoyed the feel of the paper as I folded it, the way it sounded as my pen glided across the paper. Turn it over or not turn it over and continue writing? I enjoyed receiving letters just as much however I seldom did. I remember I could not wait to grow up and graduate from the ball point pen I had to use to the fountain pens my parents and grandmother used. Having ink stains on my fingers and blotches of ink on my letters.
I have fountain pens now and baskets of note cards and no one to write to. It seems they all want quick messages and texting. No time in their lives for sitting and writing and still no responses to the letters I do send out. I might as well put them in a bottle and drop them into the sea. I will have the satisfaction of writing and will not expect a reply and will therefore avoid the devastating crush of believing no one cares for me. Silly but it is rejection and it does hurt.
Pinterest is fun but I miss cutting
photos and images out of magazines and pasting them onto sketch paper in
notebooks and creating a story board that brings me visual pleasure. Since I am moving I have tossed all the
magazines I hoard for this purpose and experienced an emotional loss. I laughed
at myself. Why am I not doing things that bring me immense pleasure? I create
amazing collages that tell stories you can walk into and stimulate the
imagination bringing a world of possibilities into play. Maybe my guest room in my new home should instead
be transformed into an office/study/library….mmmm
Speaking of that I am moving in 11
days and yet have to see my apartment which has been vacant for a couple weeks
but the last tenant left some items and management tells me that they could not
go in and do anything until the first of the month. The anticipation is killing
me!!
Have a wonderful day!
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