I had an art journal that I called, “The Ugly Book” in which I journaled about my grief and anger of past events before my losses of the last few years.  Because I had to downsize considerably to afford the move across country, I ripped out the pages that I was compelled to hang on to and let the rest go in the garbage. Perhaps I should start another one of these journals. I found that some of the more intense expressions interfered with my pleasure when combined into my other journals.

• This reply was modified 4 years, 10 months ago by ArtHeart.