Fascinated with Bookmarks, Corners and Clay
Yesterday I spent most of the morning writing in my journal. It was quite a release. Introspection in longhand is almost like an art that's lost in this internet age. So in the middle of the rain and sparks of thunder and lightning while the internet got cut I took the opportunity to do it the old way. I realized that there are some things I can say on a piece of paper and not be able to say online. The honesty that gets drawn out of me as I hold my pen and scratch the surface of my journal with words is an intimate act of making sacred reveries. Yesterday I was restless for creativity. Two hours of writing about it and figuring out the creative urge led me trying to paint with my fingers and sing old songs from the faded sheet music of my favorite grandaunt Filomena. I listened to my voice and how comfortable it was singing the warm melodies of 1950s music. Finally my camera, which I have not used in a long time beckoned and I found myse...