The Power of Paper and Ink

It's the little things that make me happy ...

There’s something about the power of a good book that lulls me … that takes me to places where I can only dream of going … that can empower and motivate me.  I love books.  “Real” books, not the electronic versions.  I love being able to touch the pages, smell the ink on the paper, highlight and tag words that inspire me.  I love book marks.

When I was younger, I thought I’d be a librarian or a journalist because I loved, and still love reading and writing so much.  What I have learned though is that I don’t have to be either … I can still love reading and writing without having to be a librarian or a journalist.

I had a collection of Scholastic Books as a child.  You’d remember them … getting the newsprint flyer with books all over them.  I’d save my money and buy a few here and there.  I loved them, and if it were up to me, I would have kept them, but it was not.  I remember coming home only to find that they were no longer there.  I remember the devastation, and I believe that this is where my hoarding of books stems from.

These are my "main" bookshelves ... There are more ... =)

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve amassed quite a collection of books.  I mean a HUGE collection.  Not a few, but a lot.  It’s so difficult for me to get rid of them so I just keep them.  I don’t mind, but I believe that my family does because they take up so much space in our house.  I believe that they’re a part of me.  All of them.  They have helped shape who I am today.

I clearly remember teaching myself to read, and the elation and joy I experienced as I read the words.  I remember how proud I was when my first grade teacher, Mrs. Isabel Corpus, told my mother that I was the BEST reader in her class after my mother doubted my ability and expressed that she believed that I was not smart enough.  I still remember that day so vividly.

My leather portfolio, my Moleskine Journal, and my Mont Blanc pens ... A few of my FAVORITE things!

Books were, and still are my best friends.  They speak to me, teach me, and guide me and I don’t have to talk back.  My journals are my best friends also … I speak to them, and they listen, often providing me with the answers that I seek.

There’s power in paper and ink.  I am thankful for what they have provided for me throughout the years.  I am thankful that I am able to purchase them.  I share the ones that have touched me with others who I believe will feel the same.

There was a time when if you wanted to find me, you’d find me curled up with a book in hand.  I am happiest when I am able to curl up with book in hand.  I haven’t been able to do that lately … just read.  I’ve been so busy and tired, and there’s just so much to do around the house that my reading has taken a back seat.  I carry books or a book with me wherever I go … there’s always one in my purse, a few in my backpack, and it makes me happy to see it there.  But lately I just haven’t had the time or energy and it’s affected me in a way that I cannot explain.

I’ve been seeing signs though … signs that have been telling me that I need to get back into reading. I think I’ll heed that advice and go curl up with a good book.

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