It's very seldom I buy something too beautiful to use. I'm one of those who believes if you're too frightened to use it then it's a waste to buy. Don't buy things you can't use or aren't beautiful. Things you buy you should need or they should enhance your life. I haven't always adhered well to this philosophy but maybe it's true that with age there comes a certain wisdom. I tend to think before I buy anything now and if I'm not likely to use it or I can't take it out of the box, then I'll take a pass.
"Desire, A Private Journal" is an exception. I don't know why I bought this. I was looking for a different kind of notebook, saw this, and felt intrigued. It's truly too beautiful to write in. The cover has a lock but it's not just any cover. It's padded and scripted, and feels like a rather luxurious box. The `book' lies inside, fastened to its protective box. The pages are smooth, thick, and mottled. There are beautiful phrases, lovely pictures, and exquisite poems spaced throughout. This book deserves elegant script -- a handwriting skill I do not possess -- and precious thoughts or heartfelt poetry. This is why the book has sat on the shelf untouched and will remain so until I can figure out exactly what I should write in it. Anything penned for this book will need writing out beforehand so I know exactly what to say, and my hand will tremble as I try to keep the flow of my handwriting at its neatest. I feel as though I should learn calligraphy before I `qualify' to get anywhere near these pristine pages.
Note: at the time of writing this is out of stock, which is a pity as this is a special little book that would make a lovely gift but don't be annoyed if the person you give it to never has the heart or nerve to touch it.