Like any form of expression, the ability to write diminishes with neglect and disuse. Mine feels shrivelled up and deformed, grotesquely grinning at me from a corner of my mind, like an ancient mummy found in a remote cave. It has been a long time since I’ve even attempted to write anything creative – not even bad poetry or angsty fanfic.

This is a diary and record of my adventures in creative spaces, something documenting self-discovery and re-discovery; something therapeutic. I am making it public in the hopes of not abandoning it, and that it may, at one point, be something someone finds and relates to.

In a world of AI and social media, where documenting one’s day is second nature to many and correct phrasing is one prompt away, this is written with the occasional assistance of a dictionary and thesaurus. This will definitely be a learning experience as I struggle with remembering to take photos, procrastinating difficult things that aren’t super-engaging. I am curious to see how often this will have something new, but I am too weary of myself to commit to a solid schedule.