Journals...

I have journaled my whole life. I have snippets of them all over the house. i started in third grade when I was given a diary for my birthday. It was blue. I filled it up. Then I wrote constantly through high school then missed about 10 years..(small children,working nights weekends...) with small short entries in various books throughout my house. Then I started again...about four or five years ago. They are all the same. Just linear notes on white pages...
Now in this age of blogs I am finding journals like this...




and this...



from the red door

They talk about Artfest and stuff like that...
Time to get out...find more color...my world has become grey.
Safe, predictable, creative block...procrastination. Anxiety...will it be right, will it be good, will it be PERFECT....?
Then I just do the safe thing...Or is it? What does it take to let loose the creative soul? Does the desire make one an artist? Does it take a couple of cosmo's to break the shell that has built up around the child artist in me?
Glue, crayons and scissors....paint, just the doing...? HMMMMMMmmmm? Or should it be OOOMmmmmmmm?
Off to go journal......with color....I think. No, I will. (wings are a little stiff from being caged so long.. Maybe I'll just flutter around here in the cage with the door open before I venture out...