This morning; a new day; another day.
I wrote first thing this morning, a few words in my dayplanner, my daily thoughts.
I chose to write with a Kate Spade pencil. I have a thing for polka dots (or pokka dots, as my daughter used to call them).
Anyone who knows me, knows I have a pencil obsession. Besides being the most practical, and purposeful, writing instrument, I see the pencil as a thing of beauty both by design, and for the words they generate.
The words I wrote this morning were long before the world knew of Kate Spade’s death. Now, as I read my thoughts, I can only see a certain irony. I chose to write with something that was, to me, a little bit of beauty, something created by a person who, in her own way, brought a little bit of joy to the lives of people who cherished items she created. Possessions.
Sadly, today, Kate Spade could not see that joy.
Tragically, she could not feel her own joy.