What’s Yours? (4)
Leather bound, ruled, gridded, handmade? What’s your personal journal or sketchbook look like? Send us a photo at dugupmoles@gmail.com!
What’s Yours (3)
Leather bound, ruled, gridded, handmade? What’s your personal journal or sketchbook look like? Send us a photo at dugupmoles@gmail.com!
The Story of Music
Sorry we missed you last Friday! Hope you all had a great Fourth of July!
What’s Yours (2)
Leather bound, ruled, gridded, handmade? What’s your personal journal or sketchbook look like? Send us a photo at dugupmoles@gmail.com!
If Only I Was Golden For You Were Never Fond of Silver
We have a WINNER for this month’s red pocketbook giveaway! Thank you all for participating and keep them submissions coming! We will be selecting another winner at the end of February.
I’ve been making a lot of mistakes lately. Once upon a time I felt that my knowledge of the physical world and its pertinence to some fantastic energy was vast, all encompassing and complete. My lack of humility has lead to several catastrophic events that, one can only hope, do not assume the colorless auras of remorse and regret.
The funny thing is that no one has died, I still have my job, I have a steady place to live but all this seems insignificant. I want my eyes to be open and take on the wonder that I once felt and saw every moment. I want to feel that I am able to connect to this essential truth about the universe but I can’t and I sound pathetic, whining about how blocked I feel.
But just as the pain of stubbing a toe is real, so is this. Maybe some types of pain are less intense but this is the most detrimental life altering experience I have ever undergone. I have been through heartbreak and was only healed when I met the second offender. So, to continue on seems futile, I feel that nothing will surprise me ever again and that life will either remain unbearably monotonous or will be yet another series of incredible challenges and impending heartbreaks. What is the point?