Day 299: For My Memories

I worked for a bit on my journal today.  Not necessarily writing anything, just drawing and putting on stickers.  I tend to design the borders with whatever comes to mind.  I sometimes end up having several pages with artwork but nothing written on it.  One fine example being the photo above.

I've been writing random things again recently.  It should be a good sign, but my muse is a little on the fickle side.  It tends to inspire me at very random moments with very random thoughts.  It has absolutely no comprehension of organization.  Ah, well.  We live with what we have, right?

Day 194: Make A Plan

My brain stopped functioning by the time I finished my shift today.  I got home tired, hungry and wondering what random thing I should take a picture of.  While waiting for Gosick to buffer (watched it after reading photoparjour's post), I saw this little notebook I got in Baguio earlier this year. I bought it because it says Music and Violin on the cover (I know that doesn't really make sense) and it had cute colored pages.  It was the first time, however, that I opened it on the first page.  The writing says, "MAKE A PLAN", Comic Sans and all caps.

Well, the message kind of struck through my tax calculation-infused brain.  I need to make a plan.  I have been harping about a lot of things, but haven't really gotten around to structuring any of it.  Or, at least, not to most of the ones that probably matter.

Day 145: Unwritten

My journal since 2007.  My mother gave it to me as a moving out gift.  If there is such a thing.

This was supposed to chronicle my life since I started living on my own.  I have diligently kept a journal ever since I was eight.  It's interesting that I am not sure where the other volumes are anymore.  Unfortunately, I haven't written much of my thoughts for some time, even when I have enough to write about in the last four years.  I know, I should have filled this with entries to the last page, but it's just so much more difficult to write in this age.  The last entry was dated January of this year.  I haven't written anything in it since.  I didn't have the time, but that doesn't mean I neither had the inclination.  Hopefully, I can devote more time being able to put my thoughts on paper.  Sure, I have this blog, however, there is something about journal writing that allows you to put more things in perspective.  Maybe because it takes you slower to write things down than to type them.  It allows you more time for introspection.

I guess it makes sense that this is the song that goes with it: Unwritten (Natasha Bedingfield)

Day 46: Restart

In the interest of art, I bought a fountain pen the same day I went home with about five pounds of rainforest produce.  I like writing, but I was never really fond of fountain pens.  Which should be interesting, considering that a lot of my artsy fartsy friends prefer writing with a fountain than a ballpoint.  However, I'm left-handed, and I grew up experiencing prejudice to a lefty.  Every design, concept, architecture and activity I could think of was formatted with a right-handed individual in mind.  Think of doors, keyboards, faucets, and musical instruments.  (I remember the first thing my music teacher asked me when I told him I'm left-handed, "The violin is a right-handed instrument, it's not going to be easy for you.  Are you up to the challenge?"  Arrogant little brat that I was, I said yes.) 

Then there were writing instruments.  The fountain pen was not exactly designed for a lefty.  Writing in slants isn't exactly comfortable for my left hand.  But arrogant little brat that I still am, I decided to challenge it.  The fascinating thing really is, after years of literacy, I am now practicing how to write like I was five.  Funny, it's like going back to the Start (Depapepe).