Which lead to doodling about things that matter (to me).
Laying words over color.
And flowers and lines and collage and gold leaf over that.
The swoosh of paint and texture in my journal simply makes me happy.
So I vow to do more of that this summer.
Letting my pen find its way to new shapes and symbols pleases me.
It's easy and small and doable.
Words float from the ether and land in my heart.
Dots and squiggles . . . the oomph of fushia next to gold and steel grey.
Waterfalls and bursts.
Blooms and scallops.
Even some good instructions to keep in mind.
It's all being laid down in this old/new again handmade journal.