Ahoj/hello, hope you're well! Welcome on bon.bah. (My new blog name)

Over the past few weeks, I've felt challenged since returning from our 4-month trip across Asia. Adjusting is not easy at all, but it teaches us that there will always be adjusting in our lives. (What a clever thought, the other Juliana tells me.)

I can’t wait to share more about our travels, but today, I want to write about a story that has stayed with me for years. The story that shaped my creativity—not only as a child but also as the adult creative I am now. It’s a story that has been forgotten and keeps resurfacing. It’s the story of Notbuk.

Notbuk

It was around 2007, when little Juliana just started to discover computers. At the time, they had a family computer safely stored in the parents' room, but it's also possible that the two older siblings already owned these powerful machines.

I wanted one of those despite lacking an obvious purpose for it or any knowledge on how to use it. It's the kind of desire that becomes a bit dangerous once you have resources of your own. But despite all of this, there was something intriguing about it. I found it fascinating to move freely with the machine; you would be able to bring it anywhere. A laptop, it was called. Or notbuk, in Slovak. So what was this fascination I couldn’t get rid of? Could that be the first spark of the travel/nomadic life?

The decision

I knew I had to have one, and there was no way to beg my parents, so I decided to build one myself. It can't be so difficult. I took the machine and investigated it thoroughly. I knew the requirements. I knew you needed to have a mouse of some sort. Nowadays, it's even easier with trackpads. You were also able to change your screen based on what you clicked, so my prototype needed some kind of sleeve to insert the different screens. I can't remember what type of sites I was browsing at the time, but it must have included Google.

Once it was finished, my machine was perfect. I remember the feeling of having one. We went for a short walk, which I considered a hike at the time, and I brought my machine - my own personal Notbuk. I can't recall its exact appearance, but I remember what it felt like. After the "hike" up there, I sat next to a pond, opened my Notbuk, and felt there was nothing in the world that could stop me. I did it. I felt free.

So why this matters?

I am often called childish. It's probably because I create useless objects that are meant to be inspiring, but people just don't get it. It's not acceptable to do things as before; you are often expected to bring a bit more sophistication to your life. I tried to fight it from time to time. But I would really like to use this phrase right now: to hell with it all. Once we accept that this is who we are by nature, a giant weight will be lifted off our shoulders. Or whatever it's said. 

Me realizing what kind of projects I do sometimes

I am officially 28 now, and a few days ago, I decided to commemorate this special moment. I created my Notbuk. Again. I felt a bit ashamed to share it with others, but one must learn to fight this feeling. The fear of being judged. Or misunderstood.

The types of activities we may enjoy used to be acceptable when we were children. They called us clever or inventive, and people would often smile. Now, fewer people call it inventive, but most view it as a waste of time or simply not knowing what to do with one's life/feeling of boredom. Having nothing else to do. We don't create enough things with our hands. Go cook your dinner if you want to work with your hands. But that's not what I enjoy. I enjoy creating useless objects that seem to have no obvious purpose. They make me happy. So in the end, they do have a purpose, don’t they? 

I had a strong desire to create things with my hands because my mind wasn't functioning anymore. Full of dreams, hopes, and desires. Full of requests from others on who I should become or what I should do. Because we cannot celebrate things that make us happy. We forgot. 

Notbuk:

To me, doing my own Notbuk, 18 years after its first prototype, was a celebration of what once made me happy. It's also a strong reminder for all of us to be inventive and use the things we already have, rather than buying more. (Says the hypocrite running to the nearest stationery store to buy yellow paper because my Notbuk has to have a style.) What is it that you enjoyed as a child? It's what you meant to do. In that case, I will become a fake Notbuk creator when I grow up. I just need to find the right market.

Have a great rest of the week!

Yours truly,