missives

This past summer I started making a book of words, which I've begun to call, (ok, only to myself), my book of poetry.

Initially I started cutting out words and phrases thinking I'd use them for the occasional inspiration boards I like to make. And then one afternoon in a burst of energetic creativity, I pulled this moleskine out of my hoard collection, and started pasting messages to myself inside. 

I don't lay them out before-hand, mostly I  pull a handful of cuttings out of the bag and wait for the words to come. 

So far, I work on a few pages and then set my book aside. I'm glad that I began with a start date and since, I've dated the beginning of each journaling session because I like the visual reminder of where I was at that time. 

There have been instances when I've picked up my bag of words and nothing comes. I continue to add to the bag each month as my magazine subscriptions pour in. Yes, I'm still completely addicted to paper magazines. This new ritual of cutting them apart after I've read them, (and some not read at all), is a good way to re-purpose all that paper, and in the end I think I like my book of poems even more.