Attempting to break an old habit today... for years I've written my deepest thoughts on pieces of scrap paper. Moments tucked away here and there in purses, folded and used as bookmarks, and scattered in countless drawers and notebooks. I have always had an addiction to journals... I can't seem to stay away from the journal aisle of any store actually. I search and search until I find the perfect one rich in texture, then smell its potential, and fan its blank pages as if to fan into flame words already written there. It's like pausing to sense your journey before you live it, or your thoughts before you think them. Still... I get totally inspired, then grab a stack of scrap paper and start scribbling my thoughts. It's "madness", and the only awareness I can make of it is that I'm afraid I'll stain the pages with imperfection... setting it aside for "just the right expression". Today, gibberish or not, I'm blowing the dust from this "preserved" stack of books, and fanning into flame all that's written there!