I’ve been basking in a metaphor for “new” this week: the crisp blank page of a brand new notebook yet to be adulterated by my thoughts. Be they organized, scattered, imaginative, technical...my contribution doesn’t matter yet. A blank sheet of paper in a new notebook is a clean space, where medium means more than the message. The medium is the message. I could write anything into that space.

A bookseller colleague in Berkeley, California shared on social media yesterday that after election results were called, sales of stationery products--especially notebooks--skyrocketed. He did more in notebook sales in one day than he had all month.

This manifestation of our thrill of the “new” fills me with so much joy. It is the potential of creation, the apex of a jump on a trampoline, the pregnant pause before Whitney Houston belts out the words “...and I” on I will always love you.

And I...want to enjoy this lovely feeling with all of you this week. Utter no messages, leave the page unwritten. Just feel the paper under my fist, with all of you. These pages will fill up quickly. Our grip will tighten. We will be back on the ground soon, and I know you’ll be there, too. With endless pages behind us, but always a blank one ahead.

xAnne