From Oogy, Boogy, Woogy - the three wise gnomes from the south.

This is still one of my all-time favorite poems, reminiscent of a chapter in another lifetime.

I'm doing a major overhaul of my craft corner/home office/workstation, going through every bit of paper and journal and sketchbook, with the intent of keeping, discarding, and donating the supplies I have accumulated since the pandemic and beyond. I realized that my pandemic anxiety manifested itself in my restlessness and dissatisfaction, as evidenced by all these unfinished and (some) barely-used art journals and sketchbooks.

My mental health over the past few years has been a mix of self-defeating thoughts and empty dreams. I know, I should be more optimistic than that.