Coffee stained notepads

I love nothing more than a good notepad. I have piles of them. Big ones, little one, medium ones, tiny ones. Some are crappy and travel-worn, others are too posh to put pen to paper.

I have whole books filled with words. Not sentences, just words. My vocabulary down on paper, in brightly coloured ink. Yes, I’m one of those. A true girl with a pack of bold and beautiful pens that go with me everywhere. My favourite packs have clips that fit so neatly into those spiral-bound pads. So handy, where there’s a pad, there’s a pen. And a splash of colour that rarely sits between the lines and never makes sense to anyone else.

There’s the ones by my bed, awaiting midnight inspiration. The ones in my bag, for ideas on the go. The ones in the studio, the ones on the bookshelf. The to-do lists, the doodles, the scamps and the pondering. The scrap books piled neatly with their pretty bow-ties. Filled with inspiration in every form – photos, clippings, wall paper, graffiti… anything and everything. It’s hoarding, it’s organised chaos, it’s the only way I know.

You can never have too many notepads. But apparently, you can have too many cups of coffee.

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