16 July 2022, a warm Saturday night in the middle of summer. Dogs are outside on the deck, and I know Lisa is about to open the door and let them back in, so I’ll adopt a relaxed posture and write a little bit.
I remember in college, I was taking English 101 with Nancy Avery at Wichita State. She would later start Avery Cards, a little greeting card company with some of the nicest little country cards you would ever like to find. Nancy asked us to keep a daily journal and write something in it daily (and yes, I give her credit for the initial push to create this habit). I remember how she used to react to some of my entries… she gave me credit for my creativity, but I think it probably alerted her to the odd directions my mind can turn on a dime.
These days I don’t sit down with a journal and pen and just let stuff flow. To my future grandchildren – If you come across one of my journals, open it up. If I haven’t changed my habits in the coming days, you may very well have a journal with ten pages in the front filled with gibberish, and most of a pretty good journal left for you to explore your creativity.
Do it.
OK, maybe cut the first few pages that I wrote on and combine them into a single mismatched scrapbook (crap book?) of mental skip days and moments.
I hope your life is structured so you have time to be a productive member of society, pay all your bills, and still have time to read good books, write your own thoughts down, and maybe practice an instrument if you are so inclined. We all need a creative outlet, some art thing that smooths out the rough spots.
I hope the world is treating you better than you deserve.
Peace y’all.
