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Starting a fresh new journal is always somewhat intimidating for me, even under the best of circumstances. It makes me want to write something profound, something worthy of being remembered. It was especially trying this past week, because the well is rather dry right now. I haven't been priming it the way I need to, in recent weeks, with creative excursions, thought provoking reading, exploration, and projects. Instead I've been focusing on health issues, both spousal and parental (and even personal, with this whole swine flu ado), my progenies' job and happiness issues (or lack thereof), and preparations for the Bountiful Sprout gala and for being away from home for a week. In fact, it seems as if I've been away more than I've been home this spring, and since this "place" has always been a critical player in my writing and creative "flow", it's understandable why the pen just ain't flowing all that well right now.

But I'm not worried. Thanks to Julia Cameron (The Artist's Way), I know exactly what to do, to get those juices flowing again. Isn't it lucky that I discovered her before I became a writer, instead of having to spend years struggling with my muse, or learning to depend on alcohol or other substances to lure her out of hiding, as so many others do?