ABSTRACT
Ah — journals. I am looking at my bookshelves and I count thirty-three personal journals. The newest one is a blue, hand made, unlined, Watermark book. It says it was crafted in Port Townsend, Washington, and was given to me as a recent birthday gift. Underneath it on the shelf is a lovely lined brown leather vol ume with shoelace-like ties and a satin page marker. Its called “the brown traveler” and was given to me by a student. I just opened it for the first time since I received it as a gift a year ago and found inside (this is true!) a folded fifty-dollar bill. Now, I dont believe this struggling student left a fifty-dollar bill inside the book before me, nor do I ever remember putting such a thing in this book since I dont carry large amounts of money. I can only conclude that this untouched journal is a gift meant to be written in, and I should take it with me on my travels and use it for my next play.
