by nicole…..
I’ve always been friend to the grid, the graph. When I was introduced to graph paper in school, I knew the lines vertically and horizontally created a solid space, just so in size, where I could release my brain and allow it to calculate numbers that would fit, exactly somewhere; such a safe, safe place.
In junior high, I was encouraged to create, and so I tried my hand. There seemed to be so many bright lights in my 6th, 7th, 8th grade class, so many stars seeking the attention they deserved. I was content to expect that my creativity would be, in some way or another, inconsistent at best.
I tried writing on BLANK paper in my best handwriting. It may have been a journal. I watched with dismay as my lines, over time, naturally slanted downwards, creating a piece of writing that didn’t suit me. The blank page, while freeing in so many ways, didn’t give me enough support — I needed a little more of a guideline, a rule; something that allowed me to be free, creative, without allowing the lack of structure to distract me. I’ve never been good with zero guidelines. I tend to revert back to something fairly safe, juvenile even. Its odd. I am much better with just a hint of rules.
And no, I don’t mean ruled lines. They are my least favorite. They are so distasteful, telling you to move forward, “Keep moving on,” like a drill sergeant. Sometimes the lines are blue, sometimes they are are black or grey, occasionally green or some other color. They are varying strengths of color which makes them even more distasteful; always wrestling for some balance with the weight and color of the paper, either too dominant , or weak and sniveling — come on…balance! Never quite sure if they are starting too close to the edge or too far from the end. Too much distance between the lines? How embarrassing. What are we? in second grade? Too little room between lines? Egad, cramped hand, cramped hand.
And do I judge when I see a beautiful notebook in a cute bookstore, an office store, a foreign country outdoor mart? Oh, do I. I routinely find bookstores or knick-knack stores that sell journals and notebooks in whatever foreign country I happen to be in.
A couple of years ago, in St Petersburg, I entered a bookstore. It was an odd one. But I am always inclined to see what joy there is within. And so I searched for a notebook. The ugly paper and ruled lines with disproportionate spacing gave me the heebe jeebes.
I have a physical reaction – I withdraw. My hands, initially wanting to read the blank pages with my fingertips, will pull back with revulsion if the coloring and spacing are off in a lined book.
My opinion of Russia lowered a bit. Later the country redeemed itself when I found a beautiful pen to write with and a lovely simple notebook. I digress.
Ruled notebooks, journals, are not for me, they are too easy to find fault with. Please note that I am much more forgiving with lines on notepads. But that is a different trail.
And so, maybe 30 years ago or so, I discovered the dotted grid. Not quite graph, but not blank either. I can see how it might be annoying to many in that it doesn’t make much of a statement. If I were not me, I could see how I would look at it and say, “Oh for Pete’s sake, just be something, instead of just parts or hints of something.” But luckily I am me, and not that other me, and I enjoy the dotted grid. Other than the blank journal, it is the page that I let my fingers linger on the most. Especially if the dots are faint.
These beautiful dots allow just enough construct that I can write without worry that my hand will slant this way or that. I have to really look hard to see them. The dots allow me to be creative without too much freedom that I might forget what I am doing or writing — they allow me to be the me that I am comfortable being right now.
And so I find myself most particularly enamored with my recent discovery, the MD Midori notebook from Japan. An A5 journal (not too big, not too small), with it’s cream-colored pages (not too white, not too dark) and medium weight paper (God forbid the fountain pen ink should bleed through) and lovely light blue dots that are spaced just so. The journal/notebook cover is as plain as they come, with the spine exposed and the ability to lay flat, wherever I choose to open the book. Ah, such an inviting space for me to curl up in. Alas I have heard that Midori may, or already has, discontinued the grid – the dotted grid.
I have bought a few of these MD Midori books recently and given them in various forms (blank, lined, big and small) to people close to me, who love to create in some artistic way, hoping they will feel the beauty that I experience with these books.
They may be too creamy, or too small or too plain for you, but know that if I have gifted you one, it is with the hope that you will delight in the pages and find yourself in a comfortable place that allows you to be you. And if that is not the case, and the fits is not right, then feel free to gift it to someone else, and just know that you are someone with whom I wanted to share my joy.
edit: You may wonder how this piece has anything to do with, well, anything. Know that it is a tiny peek into the heart of who I am, right now, in this moment, amidst all the chaos and calm. And believe it or not, it says a lot about my intentions for this new year, if not as obvious as one would want it to be.