By little I mean around late grammar school, early high school. I used to hang on the walls of my room these cardboard signs that had various aphorisms on them. I remember well that they usually had some small illustration and the words were in some electric color like shocking pink, lime green, yellow. And the sayings were from famous people from all over the world, all periods of history. Of course, I don't remember what a single one of them said. But I do remember that Confucius was on one of them. All these little snippets of wisdom hanging around for me to see every day.
Don't ask me why a little kid would do such a thing. In fact, don't ask me why a guy 70 years old would do it . . . well, not exactly the same thing. But close. I keep what I call a commonplace book. I'm sure that's not what they call them now. A little notebook in which jot things down that strike me for some reason or another. Almost always somebody else's words, not mine. This here blog is where I leave my own droppings.
This thoughts are occurring to me because I have only two pages left in the current little journal book before I have to move on to another. This one was given me by my daughter Tanya on my birthday in 1994 as we were about to depart for life in Florida. Long time ago now.
The first few pages are miscellany. Looks like I used it for random notes and then I journaled for our trip to Belize in 2001. After that, it became the commonplace book. It occurs to me now that I've got jillions of conversation starters in here. And maybe, when there's nothing present and current on my mind, I'll dip into these treasures where there will always be something provocative.