Kryptonite

Pens are my medium of choice. My creative crack if you will. I adore doodling, list making, list checking off, journaling, drawing, sketching, letter addressing, check writing, note drafting, paper grading, grocery list making, grocery list checking off–anything written as long as I have a colorful pen to do the job.

Pens can also be my kryptonite. They have this amazing paralyzing tendency. What if what I write is crap. What if what I draw is crap. What if I can’t think of anything worth anything? Okay, so perhaps my kryptonite is more fear-based than ink-based, but isn’t it more fun to place blame?

Combine the paralyzing affect of my doubt with this amazing hand-crafted journal and you get nothing but dust. I’ve had this journal since October. Its empty.

It is gorgeous. It is fabulous. It is well-crafted and not inexpensive. Its pages are empty.

Well, for three and a half months it was empty. Turns out it pens and journals are not so scary. I drew on the first page today. It was fun. I enjoyed myself. I didn’t draw total crap. The universe didn’t stop spinning. I’m starting to realize Kryptonite is mostly an illusion. Not saying I’m going to go skydiving or anything–but heights probably aren’t that scary either.

What is your kryptonite?

Peace,

^-^