Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Luxury of the Palm

When I was flying back, I wrote longhand in a lovely notebook. I enjoyed it. I always enjoy it. When I landed, the daunting task of typing up what I wrote reminded me why journaling is such an act of luxury - like sleeping in on a weekday.

If I had written that rough draft on my computer, I would not have to spend the time doing data entry. That slowing down of the process means I don't do the dishes on my way to work in the morning, because I've got a deadline. It means, I've got to skip a workout video. It means, I've got to lose sleep.

Writing longhand is a luxury, and I enjoy it when I can do it. Alas, I can't always do it. It takes too much time to get to the second draft.

Someday, I will go on vacation without a computer, and spend weeks wandering some exotic place - a state park, New York City, underwater caves - and I will press the ink into the paper.

Halfway through my plane journey, I stopped using the pen and paper, and I started using my own e-mail on my iPhone. I couldn't mail it out right away, what with the plane settings, but I knew I could mail it out eventually, and cut and paste, and gallop into my second draft without any lost time scrivening.

I wonder if someday typing on a full keyboard will be as luxurious as a pen and ink, because we're all tap-tap-tapping on our mobile informational devicery.

2 comments:

Matthew Bey said...

don't recopy it! that's just a security risk. a paper-journal is unsearchable, unhackable, uncorruptable, uncrashable, and will never become an obsolete, unreadable media. plus it looks neat on a shelf. =]

J m mcdermott said...

"Unreadable Media"?

Right, because everyone is familiar with this old, hand-scrivened classic:

http://www.usao.edu/gallery/indianart/course/pics/pictograph.jpg

(I think it's a monster mystery about a forest full of giant feet.)

We are, all of us, scribbling into darkness and silence and void.