Nothing beats journaling in bed. Still half-asleep but fresh coffee bringing me around. And the day ahead. Expanding or constructing as I see fit.
I come to the page and allow my mood to guide me. What page to put pen to or image or colour.
It’s my intuition who leads the way, gently. Before my intuition was dead and gone. Repressed and forgotten. But slowly, through trust and patience my intuition is very much in the driving seat these days.
And I like it this way. She never sees me wrong but keeps me safe, creative and present.