Yes, I've personalized my blog. This is as close as it gets to the real thing.
My dear readers, please understand that every word that is written here first starts from the traditional pen and paper. I'm a writer and pretty damn good at it if you allow me. I've always preferred the good old fashioned sitting at the cafe drinking espresso and writing my pieces. It also allows me the chance to edit the rushes of inspiration as I type it up.
But gone are the days of old fashioned rituals, publications, typewriters and notepads whilst listening to vinyl or tape decks. Sometimes I used to stick a photograph to make a memory or turn it to a journal entry. Old fashioned film, waiting for a week for it to process. Man, I miss those days. I've evolved through them all. This is my pride and privilege.
However electronic be the world today, I still maintain a shade of the old school. Old habits die hard.
I use only fountain pens, or calligraphy stylus and ink pots
My Titles are always in Black Ink.
The rest in Green.
And the pages are usually yellowed parchment/ handmade recycled paper bound in leather.
Pretentious douche that I am, I sit wearing a suit at the cafe. Black tie, hands stained in ink. Yes, I keep the ink pot close for refills. It's also mesmerizing to simply dip the pen in the ink and keep writing. The entire get up helps me write better and for more.
Once I'm done or my patronage has outlived the cafe's closing hours (the management has always been kind to extend an extra hour for my benefit), I keep my ink stained hands in the pocket and satchel the rest and walk back home to my dreams.
These days have been good to me. I'm almost on the verge of ad-venting a novella and a twin script. New additions to my stack of 150 poems, 12 sketches and the novel I've spent my life on. All still unpublished and awaiting encourage with hope.
Keep on Walking.
Cheerios.
My dear readers, please understand that every word that is written here first starts from the traditional pen and paper. I'm a writer and pretty damn good at it if you allow me. I've always preferred the good old fashioned sitting at the cafe drinking espresso and writing my pieces. It also allows me the chance to edit the rushes of inspiration as I type it up.
But gone are the days of old fashioned rituals, publications, typewriters and notepads whilst listening to vinyl or tape decks. Sometimes I used to stick a photograph to make a memory or turn it to a journal entry. Old fashioned film, waiting for a week for it to process. Man, I miss those days. I've evolved through them all. This is my pride and privilege.
However electronic be the world today, I still maintain a shade of the old school. Old habits die hard.
I use only fountain pens, or calligraphy stylus and ink pots
My Titles are always in Black Ink.
The rest in Green.
And the pages are usually yellowed parchment/ handmade recycled paper bound in leather.
Pretentious douche that I am, I sit wearing a suit at the cafe. Black tie, hands stained in ink. Yes, I keep the ink pot close for refills. It's also mesmerizing to simply dip the pen in the ink and keep writing. The entire get up helps me write better and for more.
Once I'm done or my patronage has outlived the cafe's closing hours (the management has always been kind to extend an extra hour for my benefit), I keep my ink stained hands in the pocket and satchel the rest and walk back home to my dreams.
These days have been good to me. I'm almost on the verge of ad-venting a novella and a twin script. New additions to my stack of 150 poems, 12 sketches and the novel I've spent my life on. All still unpublished and awaiting encourage with hope.
Keep on Walking.
Cheerios.
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