I was an artsy person when I was younger. As a teenager, I cultivated as many cheesy disciplines as I could, not sure why at times. I suppose as an outlet for self-expression. I wrote poems and short stories. I drew for a while, and thought I was good at it (when I know I really wasn’t). I didn’t sing in public, but I rendered an amazing air guitar solo to most The Corrs songs and sang silent back vocals when nobody watched me. I even had a bit of a singing ritual before all my basketball games – as a means to prepare myself mentally for the difficult task of playing the game. I won several lame awards for my poetry ‘skills’ and I hold as a treasure the day my Spanish Literature teacher told me she imagined me doing “something artistic” as an adult.
Let’s just say her prophecy didn’t really turn out as such.
I suppose we all feel, as teenagers, that that is the adult self we will adopt, hence it sort of makes sense to imagine ourselves in the future the way we were at the time. Which of course it is a fallacy. “I will never change!”. Oh boy, how wrong I was.
I can’t draw, so let’s not even go down that path. I do some incidental cartooning for this blog because I don’t want to break any copyright laws. And I can cartoon myself (see image above, huge glasses, messy hair). I have not written poetry since I felt high school, which is a blessing for the world. I occasionally jam one or two Cranberries songs on the guitar, and imitate Dolores O’Riordan with some hellish screaming, but yeah, that’s not really singing. I haven’t written fiction in many years. Every so often I get ideas, but they never go anywhere.
But then I had a bit of an off-topic compulsive buy and went for a Moleskine blank page notebook. I think I was a bit influenced by the fact that my wife has a few white page notebooks and ink flow pens and she does wonders with them. A pinch of healthy jealousy, I believe, made me go for it. Why not.
As I said in a post a few days ago, I am having trouble writing. I just fear it’s not going to be good enough. So after putting some thinking into it, I thought that if I could have an outlet for my terrible writing that has nothing to do with the thesis, then maybe my writing “joints and ligaments” will become more elastic and and greased up, helping my thesis writing in the process. I am what I write, after all! But, I need a place to be completely mediocre (this blog is a start) and slightly personal (beyond the scope of this blog) so the Moleskine sounds like an all-round good choice.
I reckon that there is a Mongrel teaching out of all this. Part-timers tend to have slightly more means than full timers on the basis that normally they work full time jobs. Since I don’t have children (but have hamsters, which are much easier to maintain), splashing on a fancy notebook to write mediocre stuff is completely acceptable. It’s what the Thesis Whisperer calls throwing money at problems. It’s not like I can throw massive amounts of money at problems, but I see this as an ‘quality’ investment that is worth a chance, and the pomposity of the whole thing seems reasonable. I know I am running the risk of sounding like Buzz Killington here, but my little poor child self likes “fancy”.
Ps. Yes, I had to buy a pen to go with the notebook. Fancy notebooks require fancy pens. So that mediocre posts like this can be sketched and written in fancy ink.