It's so important to have a space to create in--a space to call my own that I can write, draw, and reflect on the past, decisions, reasons, and growth in my personal journey. Inspiration is often so hard to come by, or find in my own life and my own work. The buzz of a text message interruption, the beep of the alarm clock that awakes me from a dream I can only have while nestled in my comforter and surrounded by my eight pillows atop the queen bed in the bedroom.
The drawer filled with parts of ideas, epiphanies gone stale, and a passion put to temporary rest. A pantry closet which houses memory books and chunks of my life that are so far behind me that no matter how much I organize them, and re-place them in some kind of order, doesn't change their existence.
No matter how much I agree with the idea that every past has shaped my present and future, and hand pick the good out of all the bad, the bad is still there. And so, I take each piece, every part into my pocket, instead of on my sleeve where all can see it, and believe that out of the past couple of decades, I can tap into the creative space at my own pace and reflect--to continue on my journey.
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