"I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am."
Syliva Plath
The Bell Jar
A wicked smart, mature-for-her-age, 16 year old girl posted this on her status on Facebook the other day. It hammered me in the head. It spoke to me so loudly that I immediately wrote it on my fresh, clean table paper.
And then it taunted me.
It needed to be something.
Something special.
I mentioned a while back in this post my love of boxes. My friend Susan of Susan's Charming Trinkets hooked me up with another huge stack of boxes. This is my box shelf in my new arrangement upstairs.
Since I replaced my desk with folding tables and lost all my drawer space, I need a place to put all my Pitts and Sharpies and Microns and Inkssentials. So I combined my need for a pen/pencil box with this quote that spoke to me.
Now I have a really special pencil box.
I still don't like to call this space upstairs a "studio". The title "artist" still sticks in my throat. I don't want to assume an identity that is not mine to assume. But, you know what?
I am. I am. I am.
Praying the Lord blesses you this week with that which quiets your braying heart and turns the harsh, loud cry to a sweet melody.
<3 Lori
