2 years ago, i picked up a scrapbook kind of book at borders for my english project. the pages were rough and was made of pieces of recycled paper. after using it for my project on The Great Gatsby, i decided to put it to good use. an art project. a journal type of thing where i can create my feelings, write my emotions, and to just make some art. i loved having something to go to if i wanted to vent my anger in torn pieces of magazine pages and some meaningful words, or to take a snapshot of my happiness in that moment to keep with me forever. after endless breaks of not filling up the pages and a dry spell of not being inspired by life, i finally finished it in the summer of 2008.
On thursday, i was on my way to the mall to pick up some make-up. i passed by borders and thought to myself, “i think it’s time to start a new one.” i found the perfect book with thick blank pages. i brought it home and finished my first page. i’m quite happy. now i just need to finish an unfinished art project that’s been on my mind for about 2 weeks now. my white wall won’t be so lonely and dull after this.