A Page A Day.

I've made a commitment. For myself. For my personal growth and challenge, and concept of self-empowerment and goal-driven release.

I'm writing a page a day.

I've gotten out of practice of writing. Not blog writing, but writing as the art of it outside of me. Outside of my own thoughts of feelings, but writing as looking at trees with descriptive words, and capturing landscapes, and creating characters that in essence, then create themselves.

This was my original form of writing. This was my original release.

Book loads of scribbled words would end up on the kitchen table, waiting for my mom's proud eye. Pages of lined notebook entries piled together for my eighth grade teacher's encouraging comments. And story-lines with character names compiled in files.

I miss it. I haven't thought about it, until the last week or two, when I need major brain stimulation, goals, drive, purpose, and something to count as productive in my day.

So I started to day. The goal itself may be a bit lackadaisical, and left to great flexibility, but I have pronounced myself a practicing writer, as I commit to a page a day. About anything, about nothing. About people, about trees, about storms, about cityscape's. A running Word doc has already become. Just to begin this change and challenge. Of a page a day.