I’m very grateful to have found Red Room. I have never blogged anything in my life, so we’ll see how this goes. I wasn’t one of those people who always knew they loved to write, who had to write. Writing sort-of found me; or rather we met somewhere in the middle. Maybe I called and the call was answered. When we did find each other, we became inseparable. I love to observe my surroundings, quietly from the safety of my own boundaries; and often I will reflect in my journaling about something that I’ve observed throughout my day. Sometimes an idea will flow into my mind, or a memory will take hold of me, as I peddle away on my bike, on my way to work. In those moments, my mind is both still and noisy with so much buzzing around. I never understand how the thoughts seem to come so easily during those times when I don’t have easy access to my pen and paper, so that I can catch the thoughts as they race through my mind. And then when I reach my destination, if the thoughts are still somewhat fresh, I start scribbling whatever will come out; and other times, nothing—just a blank.