I’ve developed a real affection for these Leuchtturm1917 notebooks. My wife bought me one originally, and it got me instantly with its pocket-size, soft cover, and cream dotted pages, with page numbers. It’s the small details that can make all the difference. I’m now on my fourth one. And you get pen loops that go in the back in different colours that can match the notebook. Possibly my favourite feature is the index on the first few pages of the notebook. Filling that in when you’ve finished your notebook is a great moment. I use these all the time for planning walks and writing up my thoughts and reflections in the pub after a walk – as advised by the great topographical writers of the early 20th century.
Cracked open a new notebook in Mayesbrook Park on Friday – always a great moment, peeling back the cellophane, cracking open the spine, scrawling name and address + reward if found on the facing blank page. I’m trying to move on from uniform black Moleskine/Ryman pocket books so picked up this orange number in Book Warehouse on Southampton Row (I uncharacteristically dispensed with the manufacturer info in the park bin) but only once peeled did it reveal a sparkly gleam to the cover and an unsettling textured finish. It started to bother me as I took it out of my bag to make notes on the hoof. This wasn’t good – when trying to distill the essence of an experience of place or the overheard conversations in a Wetherspoons toilet cubicle I don’t need to be distracted by the sound of my fingers vinyl scratching across the cover of my pocket book. It needed masking. I ransacked the leaning tower of product boxes in my work cell till I came up with this combination – the final touch applied in the Red Lion, sealed with a libation of Butcombe’s Haka Bitter. It will also be a constant reminder for the next 3 months to find a use for the footage that I sent off to be processed at Super 8 Reversal Lab.