Journals

My journals are central to how I make sense of my life—they’re the way I stay organized, grounded, and honest with myself. Over the years, they’ve become a home for everything: messy to-do lists, half-formed ideas, sketches, travel notes, big dreams, hard days, and small wins. I usually fill one to four journals a year, and now more than 25 of them sit stacked on my bookshelf—each one holding a season of my life.

They’re where I unload, reflect, and reconnect with what matters. They’ve become my external memory—capturing adventures, emotions, creative experiments, and lessons I don’t want to forget. Part record, part refuge, they’re my backup system for a busy life and an ever-evolving artistic self.

If you keep journals too, you know the feeling. The pages don’t judge. They hold your chaos and your clarity at the same time. And if you’ve been thinking about starting one, this is your sign. Your journal doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to be yours.