Kelley Bryan Gin is a child clinical psychologist and university professor in Oakland, CA. His training in art is informal with most education provided by his mother who is a professional artist and photographer. He considers himself a mixed-media artist... Read More
here is the second journal cover. The closure tab could still be a bit longer–maybe quite a bit. A slim pen will fit between the closure and the journal, but it’s tighter than I’d like. The flap secures with a... Read More
I snuck in the back door as quietly as I dared. Setting my purse down carefully on the kitchen floor, I reached into the big black trash bag near the back wall. Forcing my hand through the leftovers–bits of gristle,... Read MoreIt was a real journal. The one I’d always wished I could find.
Moleskine honors my story and my life. They craft the pages
with care, and they treat my words as if they matter. When I sit in a coffee
shop or on a bench at the beach, people often ask me what I’m writing. "That’s a beautiful journal," they say. I
smile, and nod, and inside, something is very proud.
"Take that!" I say inside myself to the family of origin I haven’t
seen or spoken with in over a decade.
I buy Moleskines every few months, whether I need them or
not. I buy the Van Gogh green ones, the small ones, the blank ones, the lined
ones—I have a shelf full of them, as if they are a treasure. And they are
Recently I published my first book. I’m happy to say that
there was nothing left or ripped out of it… It is my words, and my story, in
all of its honest, sacred truth. I wrote much of it in my first moleskine. The
words poured out of me, and found a safe place among the pages. I’m happy to
say they’re all still there.
author of Stumbling Toward Faith (Zondervan, Harper Collins 2004)
avid Moleskine user, lover of all things cheese.
Visit her site.
A MOLESKINE NOTES ESSAY SERIES ENTRY
[Originally posted 1.20.06]-->