I just want to make things

My stress levels have been ratcheting upwards this week. Instead of sleep there's tossing, turning, and heart thumping. Maria Yovanovitch and Fiona Hill are living inside my TV and my brain. I try to write and there are 10 million ideas or no ideas. Either way the screen stays blank. I just want to make things. Why not make paper? Maybe I need more blank pages to sort out my thoughts.

At my internship, I made paper from old t-shirts.

I formed the sheets in the workshop and brought them home still damp.

They match my desk. I'm not sure what I'll do with them. Journal pages? Book covers? Collage?

Last night when I couldn't sleep I was googling portable paper beaters at midnight. 

And I googled Gordon Sondland's watch which let to some rich attorney flashbacks. Which lead to divorce flashbacks.

Both of these google forays were bad ideas. I don't need a portable paper beater (and I certainly don't need a $50,000 watch) because I have THIS PLACE blocks away and a paper making internship with a papermaker who is a genius. (Cave Paper will be part of an exhibition in 2022 at the MET in NYC called Paper Legacy.) 

I feel like an idiot on many days and yet life leads me to amazing people.