The Joy of Jotting - Field Notes x Rex Brasher Review

How Field Notes’ Rex Brasher Collection Became My Go-To Shot Log

(Even if I’m Not a Birdwatcher...Yet)

There’s something inherently satisfying about putting pen to paper. Maybe it’s the tactile feedback, maybe it’s the scent of good ink on better paper, or maybe it’s just the fact that, unlike my phone, a notebook has never tried to “optimize” my life by sending me 37 notifications before breakfast.

Hi, I’m Branden—and I’m a paper snob.

Yes, I’m that guy. The one who still handwrites to-do lists, logs every film stock I shoot, and jots down half-baked ideas for future blog posts in the margins of a notebook that, frankly, looks like it belongs to an early 20th-century explorer cataloging rare species in the Amazon. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So when Field Notes—those Chicago-based purveyors of pocket-sized perfection—released their Rex Brasher Collection, I didn’t stand a chance. It was love at first sight. I may not be a birdwatcher (yet), but these notebooks practically dared me to slow down, appreciate the details, and, most importantly, write things down.

Because let’s face it: film photography, vinyl records, manual coffee brewing—these aren’t just hobbies. They’re rebellions against the rush. And now, apparently, birdwatching is joining the ranks of “old-timey” pastimes making a comeback. Who knew millennials, armed with Leicas and vintage turntables, would soon be carrying binoculars too?

I’ve been a paper snob for as long as I can remember—long before I ever loaded my first roll of Kodak or penned a blog post. There’s just something about the feel of good paper that elevates the act of writing or note-taking into a small, daily ritual. Digital notes may be convenient, but they lack the texture, the permanence, and, frankly, the charm.

When it comes to writing—whether it’s tracking film stocks or drafting ideas for That Vintage Lens—my hunt for the perfect notebook has mirrored my search for the perfect camera bag: frustratingly all over the place. I started, like many do, with Moleskine. They look the part—minimalist, sleek, the kind of notebook Hemingway might have used (or so the marketing says). But after a few pages, I realized the truth every fountain pen user eventually learns: Moleskine paper just doesn’t hold up. Thin, prone to bleed-through—it was a letdown for someone who loves a thick, textured page that feels like it could survive a century in a drawer next to vintage negatives.

So I bounced around the notebook world for a while, testing brands the way some people test coffee beans—never quite satisfied. Eventually, I found my balance in two camps. For larger, desk-bound writing sessions or detailed project planning, Leuchtturm1917 became my go-to. Their paper quality was miles ahead, and they offered just enough structure without getting in the way of creativity. But for everyday carry—for those pocket-sized moments when inspiration strikes on a walk with my camera or mid-conversation at a coffee shop—Field Notes won me over.

What I love about Field Notes is more than just their practicality. Sure, they’re the perfect size and sturdy enough for daily abuse, but it’s their style and simplicity that really speak to me. Each edition feels intentional—designed not just to be used, but to be enjoyed. They don’t try to be overly fancy or precious. They’re made for people who actually put pen to paper, who appreciate good design, and who understand that sometimes, the tools you carry say as much about you as the words or notes you fill them with.

But before we dive into my newfound appreciation for ornithological aesthetics, let’s rewind a bit—to the story of Field Notes, Rex Brasher, and why this humble notebook might just be the best companion for your next photographic adventure.

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything that didn’t revolve around cameras, lenses, or the satisfying click of a shutter—but today, I’m opening the gates a bit wider. While That Vintage Lens will always be rooted in photography, I’ve realized that the things that make capturing life beautiful aren’t limited to what fits in a camera bag. There’s a whole world of tools, experiences, and simple pleasures that, while only tangentially related to photography, still add depth, creativity, and meaning to the way we live—and shoot. So, consider this the start of a broader conversation about the little things that help us slow down, stay inspired, and savor the moments worth remembering.

A Brief History of Field Notes: The Notebook That Gets It

Field Notes didn’t invent the pocket notebook, but I would argue they nearly perfected it. Born in Chicago (because of course a city known for deep-dish pizza and architectural brilliance would also produce top-tier stationery), Field Notes was inspired by the utilitarian memo books farmers and tradesmen once carried in their overalls. You know, back when people measured things in bushels and jotted down serious notes like crop rotations—not grocery lists.

Aaron Draplin, the design legend behind the concept, famously collected vintage agricultural notebooks for years before launching Field Notes in 2007. What started as a passion project became a cult favorite among writers, designers, photographers, and, yes, paper snobs like me.

Why? Because Field Notes understands that how you write is just as important as what you write. The paper is smooth but toothy enough for your favorite fountain pen. The covers are beautifully designed, often featuring limited-edition artwork that makes you want to reach for them. And best of all? They fit perfectly in a pocket—or, in my case, snugly alongside my passport in my trusty Fjällräven wallet. It’s like they were designed for wandering souls.

Rex Brasher: The Man Who Chased Feathers and Found Beauty

Now, if you’re like me, when you first heard “Rex Brasher,” you probably thought, Is that a 1930s boxer? Or maybe a classic car model I can’t afford? But no—Rex Brasher was something even cooler: an artist, a naturalist, and a man absolutely obsessed with birds.

Long before birdwatching was a hipster hobby with Instagram hashtags, Brasher was out there in the wild, sketching, painting, and documenting over 1,200 species and subspecies of North American birds—all by hand. He didn’t have a zoom lens or a drone. Just keen eyes, steady hands, and a relentless pursuit of beauty in the details most of us would miss.

Think of him as the film photographer of the ornithology world. While others might have been content with broad strokes, Brasher was capturing life in its raw, delicate, imperfect glory. No shortcuts. No mass production. Just one man, his brushes, and a commitment to observing the world the way it really is.

So when Field Notes decided to honor Brasher’s legacy with a limited edition set, they didn’t just slap a bird on the cover and call it a day. No, they did what Field Notes always does—they respected the craft. Each notebook in the Rex Brasher Collection features stunning reproductions of his work, reminding us that beauty often comes from patience, observation, and, above all, taking the time to look.

Which, funny enough, sounds a lot like shooting film.

One of the thoughtful touches I appreciate with the Field Notes Rex Brasher Collection is how they handle the details. On the inside back cover, you’ll find the kind of extra information that feels both useful and charming—listing the bird species featured on the cover, the necessary copyright notes, and the classic Field Notes specs we’ve come to expect. But what really stands out is how seamlessly the Field Notes logo is incorporated into the cover design. It doesn’t feel slapped on or intrusive; instead, it complements the artwork, blending into Brasher’s illustrations in a way that feels intentional and mutually beneficial.

Honestly, if I had stumbled across these bird prints in an antique store, I’m not sure they would have caught my eye. But here, Field Notes has managed to modernize Brasher’s work—not by altering it, but by reframing it. They present these vintage illustrations in a fresh, functional format that highlights their beauty without making them feel dated, giving these classics a new life in the pockets of creatives like me.

Paper Over Pixels: Confessions of a Proud Analog Addict

Look, I get it. There’s an app for everything these days. Shot-logging apps. Note-taking apps. Apps that remind you to use your other apps. But here’s the thing—when I’m out with my Leica or my Chamonix 4x5, composing a shot that feels like it belongs in a dusty photography book, the last thing I want to do is pull out a glowing rectangle and start tapping away like I’m checking stock prices.

No, thank you.

There’s a certain romance in pulling a notebook from your pocket, flipping past scribbled notes and coffee stains, and jotting down which lens you used, what film stock you loaded, or the name of that quirky street where the light hit just right. It feels… real. Permanent in a way the cloud will never be.

And yes, I’ll admit—I’m particular about my paper. I’ve tried the cheap stuff. I’ve tried the fancy leather-bound tomes that weigh as much as my camera bag. But Field Notes? They hit that sweet spot. Especially this Rex Brasher edition. The paper is fountain pen friendly (my Kaweco Sport Brass is my favorite travel one), the covers are durable but elegant, and they’re slim enough to carry everywhere without feeling like I’m lugging around a novel I’ll never finish.

Plus, every time I pull one out, I get to pretend I’m some 1920s explorer documenting rare species—“April 23rd, 2025: Spotted a wild barista in his natural habitat. Excellent crema technique.”

Millennials, Binoculars, and the Return of Slow Hobbies

Apparently, I’m not the only one enchanted by analog charm these days. If you haven’t heard, millennials—the same generation blamed for killing chain restaurants and cable TV—are now breathing life back into hobbies your grandpa probably enjoyed.

Film photography? Thriving.
Vinyl records? Outselling CDs.
Manual typewriters? Making a comeback.
And now? Birdwatching.

Yes, you heard me right. While Gen Z is busy perfecting TikTok dances, millennials are out there with binoculars, field guides, and a thermos of coffee, channeling their inner Rex Brasher. And honestly? I get it.

In a world obsessed with speed—same-day delivery, instant messaging, 5G-everything—there’s a quiet rebellion happening. People are rediscovering the joy of waiting. The joy of observing. The joy of experiences that can’t be rushed.

Film photographers know this better than anyone. We choose a process where mistakes cost money, where gratification is delayed by lab processing times, and where every frame matters. Why? Because it forces us to be present.

Birdwatching? Same idea. You can’t fast-forward to the rare sighting. You wait. You watch. You listen.

Now, am I about to trade my 35mm for a pair of binoculars? Not quite…although Leica does make a fine pair! But when I saw the Rex Brasher Field Notes set, something about it whispered, “It’s okay to slow down.” And that’s a message I think we all need.

Field Notes: The Photographer’s Best-Kept Secret

Here’s the thing—they may be designed for jotting down bird species, but these notebooks? They’re perfect for photographers. Especially those of us who live by the click of a shutter rather than the swipe of a screen.

I use mine to log:

• Film stock & ISO

• Lens choices

• Light conditions

• Locations worth revisiting

• Random ideas like “Start a blog post comparing film cameras to vintage vacuums” (oh wait, already did that…more on that soon)

• And, of course, the occasional coffee order that I inevitably forget by the time I reach the counter

The Rex Brasher edition adds a little flair to the process. Every time I flip it open, I’m greeted by Brasher’s art—a subtle reminder that both nature and creativity thrive when you give them time and attention. And let’s be honest, if you’re going to carry a notebook, why not carry one that looks like you know what you’re doing—even if half your notes are doodles of cameras and questionable sketches of birds that may or may not be pigeons?

One of the thoughtful touches I appreciate with the Field Notes Rex Brasher Collection is how they handle the details. On the inside back cover, you’ll find the kind of extra information that feels both useful and charming—listing the bird species featured on the cover, the necessary copyright notes, and the classic Field Notes specs we’ve come to expect. But what really stands out is how seamlessly the Field Notes logo is incorporated into the cover design. It doesn’t feel slapped on or intrusive; instead, it complements the artwork, blending into Brasher’s illustrations in a way that feels intentional and mutually beneficial. Honestly, if I had stumbled across these bird prints in an antique store, I’m not sure they would have caught my eye. But here, Field Notes has managed to modernize Brasher’s work—not by altering it, but by reframing it. They present these vintage illustrations in a fresh, functional format that highlights their beauty without making them feel dated, giving these classics a new life in the pockets of creatives like me.

The Passport Wallet Hack: Travel Vibes, Even at Home

Now, here’s a pro tip for my fellow analog enthusiasts: Field Notes notebooks are almost the exact same size as a passport. And if you, like me, own a passport wallet that is filled with travel necessities (because of course you do), you can slide one of these beauties right next to your actual passport.

Why does this matter? Because every time I pull out my wallet to jot something down, it feels like I’m preparing for an expedition. Sure, I might just be heading to the local coffee shop or wandering my neighborhood with a camera in hand, but mentally? I’m crossing borders, chasing light, and documenting the journey like some vintage-era traveler.

It’s a small thing, but that’s the magic of good design. It transforms the mundane into something meaningful. Just like how loading a roll of film feels like a ritual, or dropping the needle on a vinyl record turns background music into a full-on experience.

So now, my Fjällräven wallet doesn’t just carry travel documents. It carries stories in progress.

Closing Thoughts: Maybe Birds Aren’t So Bad After All

So here I am—a guy who thought birdwatching was just something retirees did on Sunday mornings—completely smitten by a set of notebooks inspired by a man who painted birds for a living.

Funny how that happens.

I’m still more likely to shoot a photo of a bird than identify it by species, but thanks to Field Notes and Rex Brasher, I’m finding new ways of slowing down and really observing.

Even my kids have been fascinated by these notebooks, which says a lot considering they usually reserve that level of curiosity for things with screens or wheels. The moment they saw the colorful birds on the covers, the questions started flying—“What kind of bird is that?” “Did you draw these?” And as I answered them, I realized their curiosity was pulling me deeper into appreciation too. Their simple questions made me pause and actually think about the why behind what I do—why I choose paper over pixels, why art like Rex Brasher’s matters, and why something as small as a notebook can spark wonder. It’s funny how kids have a way of turning everyday objects into conversations about creativity, nature, and the little choices we make to stay connected to the world around us.

At the end of the day, that’s what connects all these so-called “old” hobbies—film photography, vinyl records, manual note-taking, and maybe even birdwatching. They remind us that life isn’t meant to be lived at 5G speed. It’s meant to be noticed.

So grab a camera. Grab a notebook. And if you happen to spot a rare bird along the way? Well, now you’ve got the perfect place to write it down.

Just don’t ask me if it’s a warbler or a finch. I’m still working on that part.