Food for thought

I have read about writers and artists that keep a notebook on their nightstand. If a brilliant idea comes up, write it down immediately. Especially when that lightbulb lights up in the midst of the night, write it down asap so you'll remember it the next morning. That's the whole point.
It also has something romantic. A moleskine-booklet next to ones pillow for all kinds of brainfarts.
I wish I could pull it off. 'Brilliant' ideas that pop into my head and written in a illustrative way with doodles and scribbles in my personal notebook, on my nightstand.
In my case, that nightstand is most of the time a different one. And most certainly not always a romantic sight. I am priviliged with the most fun job in the world, but also one of the most hectic lifestyles of many people I know.
Can you imagine that little Moleskine-booklet on monday in Milan in a Marriot hotel, on tuesday in Stockholm in a Nordic hotel, the next day in Madrid lying around in a NH-hotelroom. The week after all the way in Taiwan in the Imperial hotel.
In my case, that little bundle of ideas and thoughts would've been left behind probably allready somewhere between Stockholm and Madrid.
The horror if someone else would find, read and keep it. All my silly ideas, (in my opinion) brilliant concepts and scribbles.
I've never kept a diary. Not that I wasn't into writing or fancied the idea of having one, but the chance of losing it would send shivers up my spine.
The older I get the more I realize how private I have become. Sure, I spill around my opinion everywhere, I talk a lot. But my thoughts, from deep down, hardly ever get to the surface. Nobody's business, I reckon.
That said I guess I'm happy with the way it is.
A notebook. In my head. My own hard-disk.
I just wish I could remember more of those nightly ideas that pop into my head. Especially the one about my new blogpost, instead of this one...