I’ve never really considered myself a creative person. I’ve always liked to write but I never thought that took creativity. It my mind, it’s something that happens. It takes determination, diligence, persistence and patience but it happens on it’s own. Writing is supposed to flow, I guess. I don’t know.
But lately, I’ve been inspired. Inspired to do what, I have no clue. But I just want to be creative. I bought a small notebook to bring with me to jot notes down when I like something. I want to surround myself with art and classical music and candles. I don’t know what I want to do with any of this but I feel like this shit is welling up inside me and looking for a way out. Too bad I can’t draw or paint well, I’m not good at pottery, and as much as I love to crochet, I kinda suck.
But here are pictures I took on my ride home. I don’t know why but I was in love with the blue color of the sky.