This is not my journal

I have a journal. It’s a black, saddle-stitched notebook with unlined paper. It’s maybe 8″x10″ or so? Something like that. It was a gift from friends (hi, Cory and Vicky!), and I was saving it for something special. So I started drawing in it for fun, and I discovered that I actually do emotional processing through drawing. Weird, huh? And, because I’m not actually good at drawing, I will draw little captions and things to make it all come together and make sense or, at least, express the emotion I’m wanting to work through. The notebook lives in my bag and travels with me everywhere I go.

No, you can’t see it.

And that’s an important realization for me. This blog certainly is a place for me to be expressive. But it’s still a public place, and that matters.

So, as I head into the new year, I intend on writing more here. I intend on expressing myself and sharing what I’m thinking about and all that. For that matter, both this post and the previous one were jotted quickly on my iPhone while waiting for something; you may see more of these shortish thoughts from me as I drop quick little hits.

But this isn’t where I need to go to process my emotions. That’s best done in a private space. Like my notebook.


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