Lullabye and Goodnight

Last night I could not fall asleep. Not because I was thinking about work. Or housekeeping. Or (my latest obsession) decorating the house. It wasn't because I was congested (I was) or because moving seemed to cause the dull pain in my arm to become a sharp shooting pain (it did). No, I couldn't fall asleep because I was daydreaming about what I would do with this:



Now, to back up just a bit, there are two things you should know.

1. I have been in love with art journaling for a very long time but my attempts at it have been mostly imaginary and, the few physical attempts I've made have been flops.

2. I just purchased this for the more "serious" purpose of corralling my notes from one of my volunteer activities.

Despite (because of?) points 1 and 2 above, I spent a fair bit of time dreaming of journal pages. I even came up with the title and concept:

"Words: a dictionary of sorts"

Each page will have a painted/collaged background with torn collaged words that describe and define what the word means to me personally right here right now in a lyrical bit of prose that is a close to poetry as I get. (What technically separates poetry from prose anyway?). I even began the long list of words and composing some of the verbage (not that I remember it now).

Then, math nerd that I am, I began running calculations to see how long it would take me to fill the journal (288 pages) at what I thought was a reasonable rate (one page a week, 5.5 years). And then, how many pages I would have to do per week to fill it in a reasonable time frame (18 months, 3-4 pages a week). And nearly committing to it until, scheduling nerd that I am, I began thinking about what all else I would have going on in the timeframe and how it would likely kill me.

And that is about when I feel asleep. Weirdest lullabye ever.