I’m a touch typist. I’ve been comfortable at a QWERTY keyboard of one kind or another for well over half a century, but there’s something about digital writing that seems ephemeral to me, unreal in some way, as though it can’t really last, or won’t be treasured by someone years hence who happens across it, or something like that.
I confess to a preference for handwriting in a journal. I’m especially fond of the Moleskine© “Cahier”, the soft binding and archival paper of which suit my purposes nicely.
I can’t journal comfortably on a computer, even though I’d probably be more prolific (and since I’m accustomed to thinking while typing, perhaps even more spontaneous). But I guess I’ve been captured by the image of the mysterious diaries found in old trunks and old treasure maps brown with age from the books of my youth. Those things are probably unheard of among today’s generations; their Treasure Islands are in video games, and their maps have GPS coordinates.
I guess another thing about it is the underlying conviction that there really is no privacy in the digital world that doesn’t sacrifice at least some spontaneity. Continue reading