a shelf-full of my stories.

i've talked about how much journaling has meant to me... i often wonder what the difference would be in my life right now if i never discovered how to.. write, how to journal, how to blog. you get a little piece of me on here, online. but that is for the world to see. so i thought today i'd take you on a little walk through my journals. just pictures. some words, too. i have so many more notebooks than a shoe-person has shoes. - i almost think that i collect them sometime, just for the having and cherishing and looking forward to the future when i will open to the first blank page, and sniff in deeply the scent of adventure on a simple piece of paper. stray slips are everywhere; they litter bookbags, purses, desk shelves. they are not always full of thoughts, happenings, and words. some have artwork, not beautiful art, but what explains what i feel at the time. in them are my longings, teardrops, prayers, pains, wishes, happiness', and beginnings of unwritten novels.  they are stuffed full of photos, air tickets, a sprig of lavender, and many other mementos. sometimes i feel like i have a shelf-full of promising stories for my children to read. other days, i know i will be getting rid of some of them. but my journals, notepads, sketchbooks, and random bits of paper make up who i am, who i was, and who i am becoming. it's a beautiful mess. one of the few messes i enjoy making, and not cleaning up.

xo,
Sierra.