Ancient Greeks feared empty space in their artwork. Called kenophobia, the sentiment is responsible for the saturated, over-painted vases we see in antiquities collections worldwide.
By contrast, I nurse an opposite terror. I must know blank notebooks await my atrocious handwriting.
As I’ve established, I’m fussy about where I write. But the years-long Moleskine co-dependency needed to end. These days, their “Volant” series is a buzzkill. Its murky, lame, quasi-pastel colors are suitable only for the walls of a second-tier preschool.
But black notebooks are also out of the question. Their gloom is too dark for my Los Angeles eyes. If anything, my notebook should provide emotional uplift.
Plus, they need to be soft cover, with bright white, unlined pages. Since I carry them everywhere, durability is also important.
After endless online rooting, I found a solution. They arrived yesterday. When I swung open the mailbox door and saw a blue, bubble-padded envelope, my first thought was, “This is going to be fun.” Who goes to the trouble to find blue envelopes when the rest of the world uses white? Baron Fig. That’s who.
A few years ago, the NYC-based company grilled thinkers around the world about their notebook requirements. From the answers they created a prototype, the Confidant, which they put on Kickstarter. After earning more than 10 times their goal, the company was officially born.
To my chagrin, I didn’t buy one. The Confidant is hard cover and I’m a soft cover kind of girl.
But I kept my eye on the company. And idly wondered, as I often do, why’s it called that? Baron Fig sounds like a character from the board game Clue. 'Baron Fig, in the Conservatory, with the wrench…'
Kids, it’s much deeper. And it dovetails with my Greek art introduction.
Co-founders Joey Cofone and Adam Kornfield decided the “creative journey revolves around the dichotomy of Discipline and Impulse: having the discipline to work hard and the impulse to go to places you (and others) haven’t.”
So far, so good.
“The Greek gods/brothers Apollo (discipline) and Dionysus (impulse) represent this dichotomy perfectly. “Baron” is derived from the Apollonian symbol of “soldier”, and “Fig” is a symbol of Dionysus.”
Brilliant! And way better than referencing a Hasbro product.
I bought from the Vanguard line, which, mercifully, comes in packs of three. The cover's texture is divine. It reminds me of paper we weren't supposed to "waste" in art class.
The inner pages are smooth but not your-pen-slips-off-the-page-like-on-greeting-cards-smooth. I know you understand what I mean.
Choose from dotted, lined, or blank pages and three sizes: Pocket (mine) measuring 3.5 x 5, Flagship, 5.4 x 7.7, and Plus, 7 x 10.
They come in two elegant shades of gray (with 48 more on the way—joking): Light Gray (mine) and Charcoal.
The cost breaks down into three dollars per book, with free standard shipping in the U.S. if you spend more than 16 dollars.
Most telling of all, they answered my wackadoodle question—how much do the individual notebooks weigh?
That's telling. The people who weigh their notebooks for you—or bother responding to such a question after killing it on Kickstarter—are the ones you support.
There’s just one nagging follow-up: which founder is Apollo and which is Dionysus?
Baron Fig. Not a game piece option from "Clue."
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