blank pages

Blank pages





There is just something about starting out on a clean sheet of paper a new notebook, sketchbook, or journal; it's almost as good as looking back on your previous work of art. Because while your previous journal sketchbook or whatever it was contains everything you once were a new one only contains everything that you might become. It's much like waking up from a teary night to a beautiful sunrise; it's that feeling that everything is brand new. It's knowing that anything is possible, anything can happen. And though somewhere in the back of my head I know that I won't end up writting the next shakespear play, painting the next Mona Lisa, or write a real live romance in my journal it won't hurt to imagine it, to think it, to dream it. Because if it's just that one moment flipping through the empty pages of my future life imagining that maybe one day I'll do something great or write something that will last forever or meet that one person that makes me feel like the luckiest person on the planet. If it's that one moment that keeps me writting or drawing or living then those blank pages can be the most beautiful parts of my life , for that moment. But I can't forget to fill those blank pages. Because I know in reality my life is more beautiful and is worth way more than a book full of blank pages. I know that a dream is only worth anything if I try to reach it. I know that a great imagination is only useful if I actively use it. And I also know that you can't read my story from a book full of blank pages.