Not-a-Book
What you have in your hands is Not-a-Book. It’s Not-a-Book you have to read. Most of it is blank — you see? A coaster you may never need.
Put it down for weeks and months, it’s fine. Mine sat blank for about a year, Hiding away from all my fear, Until an insight just appeared.
The stories we tell they make us, us They’re ours to write, and this is thus, A space to fill, a space to chill, A space for when you have the will.
So, buckle up, release your fear, It’s just a place to rest your beer.
The intention of Not-a-Book, you see, Is to consider how our lives could be If we had a new story.
We started writing months ago and Filled a notebook on the go. It’s pages full so that one’s done. Of course there is another one.
There’s room for you to write [your art] We’ve left some room for you to start.
From Zen and the Art of [nothing] by John Zdanowski & Jeff Abrams, Chapter 15.
See: Not-a-Book (concept) · All Poems