Too many?
They're not all full. Most are legal pads with lots of pages removed. So I did weed things out at some point, but for now, I've hit the wall. It's not like I need most of this information anymore, but it's my history: planning cross country road trips, researching where to live, people I worked with, utilities turned on/canceled, car accident notes, songs I wrote, sporadic recipes, diagrams of new guitar chords, journal writing without journal containment, names and numbers galore.
One binder was full of copies of letters I wrote to people almost 2 decades ago and assorted print mementos from others; I marveled at my neat handwriting. Didn't seem possible, but then I saw some writing I never expected anyone else to read and was reassured by the messier scrawl. My best handwriting now has deteriorated quite a bit.
I feel like I should tear out and recycle some more pages, but each provides a context for the next even if it doesn't seem to contain any vital information.
Never did find what I was looking for, though I just turned my head and spied a large sketchbook on a shelf. It starts with a drawing of the store front I lived in in San Francisco:
Then some amusing animal representations. Ooh, a sketch of my friend's ornately carved daybed in LA–what a lovely treat! I'd forgotten I'd drawn that. I did remember that I'd written down all the words I was unsure of from Lolita, with their definitions. Three and half pages of words, 135 I happened to note at the end. I know many of them now.
Then pages of journal writing scrawled with the blue and silver fountain pen resting on my desk right now. Flowing ink scratching across a thick page: it's soothing, I tell ya.
And then... half a page of brainstormed names with design sketches on the recto. Just what I was looking for. How 'bout that?
A year ago on TTaT: Another not my dog
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