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Lost At Sea

lost: no longer possessed.

No drawer, no cabinet, no vehicle floorboard has been spared. I simply can not find it. For 5 days now, I have been amiss. It is possible Doc commandeered it and has stowed it in a secret place that I have yet to look. But I tell you, I have turned every space of my surroundings into the upside down like El in Stranger Things.

My journal is lost. I repeat, my journal is lost.

My personal record of this year’s goals, accomplishments, and failures along with brainstorms, future ideas, color notes, and to-do lists is no where to be found.  

This journal is not a diary where I might share my deepest fears or darkest thoughts. It is where I let my creative ideas and desires live in the physical world. Some good, some not so good, but it is important to get them out of my head onto tangible paper. It contains critiques of paintings, schedules for goals, and non-art related entries for music and film ideas. 

This journal is my way of dealing with a chaotic world and attempts to fill or make sense of the holes in my Swiss cheese brain. It helps to keep me (mostly) and my creativity organized. It tames the beast.

It is not dear to my heart necessarily, but it is dear to my brain. 

I take my journal with me almost everywhere. It is with me even more than my sketchbook (although, admittedly I will sketch in the journal here and there). I simply have no idea where it is.

I feel lost.

COMING UP:
• Sneak preview of all new (and different) work and fall show announcement 
• August giveaway announcement
• Find out if the journal is unearthed!

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