Explaining the obvious: I fill notebooks/journals of poetry, notes and musings (as well as scrapjournals which contain paper ephemera) and then transcribe (which no editing), then stash them into old-timey suitcase, which usually live in a storage locker faraway from where i physically exist.
I snap lil snaps of the cover before hibernation to remind myself of these lil tomes which remind me so much of where i was when the words were scribbled.
To prevent the snaps from vanishing into a folder (digital shoebox as it were), compilations ensue, placed into this archive for my reference, and for you to peek at if you have a notion.
Some of these have been shared previously somewhere maybe but who’s to say. Carry on.
I wasn’t a lad who obsessed over money by any means but kept a savings account from when I was a wee little dude primarily to receive a cute little notebook (and for a mandated reason for saving i shan’t discuss here). Then I discovered punk rock and removed all the money to buy records…
Here are two examples, one shiny gold and magnificent, the other similar aside from the horizontal layout and displayed in b&w for reasons unknown. There are others somewhere. I still love little notebooks and have little interest in banks (pun ha!).