Six pages (12 sides) of watercolor paper to scribble on, doodle on, paint on.... I'm not a journal person myself; I keep notebooks in which I scribble things, and on an irregular basis at that, like this:
I didn't notice this for a long time, but my handwriting changes depending on the language. That's because I was taught to write in French-style calligraphie in school, and in English classes, I was taught to write in another way (sometimes I'm amazed that I emerged out of this double life unscathed!). Truth be told, my handwriting in English is changeable, but it never ever changes in French (they got a hold of me first, you see).
I was going to go to the movies today. Instead I found myself doing housework and finishing up some projects. (I'll go and see my movie on Tuesday.) Two more big garbage bags went into the dumpster-- and I still have a way to go in my decluttering saga-- and I had my late afternoon walk around the park. By the time I had circled it twice, a runner had circled it four times.
I'm not a runner; I'm a walker, albeit brisk and paced, but I had to admire the girl! The park was quiet, except for some parents with their children playing in the kids' play area. The chestnut trees are unfurling their leaves, which will grow to be huge, and the flowering trees are in bud, some already flowering. At times like these, it's hard to believe there is a very troubled world out there.
May be you safe.