Biked home in light rain after work. When I dismounted, I was surprised to see my Moleskine resting on the rack behind my seat; it had apparently worked its way out of my back pocket and landed somehow under one of the pannier's handles, whose gentle pressure sufficed to carry it home. The upper right-hand corner appears to have made repeated contact with the tire (always the brown paper cover, graph paper pages, and flap on the back cover for pressing flowers or occasional (already-dead) dragonflies; current notebook entitled FUNK SIREN; MY DHARMA BOOK; PEACE NOTES; PROGRESSIVE KNOTTINGS INTO; MY PAPER LIGHT SCREEN; PAPER PRACTICES; PROCESS-ONLY WORKBOOK; FREEDOM SKETCHBOOK; DR. RED WARBOOK

My handwriting only works in caps; no flow otherwise. And it's really hard for me to write complete sentences (except imperatives) when not sitting at this machine, stilled, caught in whatever feedback loops of screen light and brain wave, freed from the left-to-right space-time of line (i.e., not free

Attempting to write away from the computer, according to this book (my miracle book): I LIKE IT BETTER OUT HERE NEXT TO HILLY IN THIS PILE OF SEVEN BEAUTIFUL FABRICS; I SAW THE LITTLE BOWL SHEELA MADE ON MY WAY IN (CEREAL (DRY (MY DHARMA BOOK (BEGINS ANYWHERE (SPEND TIME OUT HERE, LEARN TO WRITE ON PAPER, HEAR YOUR VOICE DIFFERENTLY (GET AWAY FROM THE SCREEN (I MIGHT NEED BIGGER PAPER (I ALWAYS IMAGINE THESE FOLIOS THAT REFLECT AN IDEALIZED MIND

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My favorite part of Lord of the Rings (the movie, since I've never read the book): when Frodo is first given the Ring, he drops it into his shirt pocket for safe keeping. No zipper or button secures this artifact of universal significance, just a spirit of trust.