These are my very first morning pages!
I’m going to need to buy a notebook!
Set my alarm for 8, but evidently improperly.
I feel so bad!
It’s 5:52am and I’m awake because we’re going to Switzerland today!
Wake up feeling anxious.
I woke up an hour and a half ago and have been trying ever since to fall back asleep, but it’s nearly impossible.
Today our beautiful vacation ends.
I’m back in Berlin on my own “terrace” that’s a balcony, and it’s a beautiful day.
These are the first pages that I’m doing before work and from my bed.
“We suffer because we think things should be different than they are.”
Thurs., 27.8. 15
My head is full of thoughts, but the words are not coming easily.
So here are my morning pages at around 4:30pm.
Less hanging out.
Pages are late because I slept unexpectedly in a Hof.
Last day of August, eeeeek!
On Sunday night I dreamed that me and Mom had these vests on that were going to kill us and we couldn’t get them off.
Waking up is not my forte.
I set my alarm for 8.
Well, the alarm went off at 8 and I got out of bed at 9:40.
Here I am waking up extra early to do my morning pages.
I need new rain shoes and a new coat.
Yesterday I taught from 9-2 and then went straight to the studio.
Attempting to write standing up in the S-bahn – I’m, in a surfing stance.
The sun is shining on my face – woohoo!
Sunday morning pages.
Both of my appointments canceled today and one of them I’ll get paid for anyway.
15.9.15 – good date.
Today is my first official studio Wednesday.
Thurs., 17.9 15
I’m hiding out in bed.
Just learning that the minor damage done to my pointer finger’s knuckle that was inflicted by a broken umbrella last night makes writing painful.
We found out yesterday that Mom has Lyme disease.
Dad texted me that Mom finally got some sleep.
The sun is hitting the trees and they look splendid.
I’m going to New York on Friday!
Within these three pages I will turn all of my current, nervous energy into excited, positive energy – like a magician.
Woohoo, the sun is shining on my face and I go to New York tomorrow.
Oh pages, I am so loyal to you.
I’m in Mineola!
I’m eager to find out how the picnic went yesterday.
I’m sitting out in front of the house, behind the garden.
September flew by!
These are late morning pages.
I’ve been here one week today.
What a great night Er and I had at Mineola’s finest pub, The Black Sheep.
I’m in Kerri’s apartment at 106 Meserole St. in East Williamsburg.
5.10.15 – nice date.
Mom was talking about Vanessa getting certified in hypnosis.
I read something last night before going to sleep that had a “do something by Oct. 7” involved.
I flipped out on Mom yesterday.
Well, I’m in Dad’s car in front of Kerri’s apartment.
I’m in the airport.
It may look like I missed a day of pages, but really I just missed a day in general.
There’s something about Tuesdays that I like.
I woke up and laid in bed listening to the rain.
Woke up hungry so I’m combining breakfast and pages.
The weather couldn’t be much worse, but I feel well.
When Dorin canceled this week I thought I would go out Sunday and have a Monday off.
I’m at Sonnenallee Sbahn station.
I think I have to say it – I’m not crazy about Rotbart.
I woke up from a dream about penises.
It’s Friday and the sun is out – two good signs.
What is happening?
Having a really hard time getting up.
Jess told me last night that she’s moving in with Moritz.
I fell asleep hoping I’d remember my dreams.
The time change has me waking up earlier than I plan to.
Last night when I came home I learned that Rory Singer died.
I remember waking up a few times last night or this morning, thinking it was Monday and then feeling delighted upon realizing it’s only Friday.
Saturday, October 31st, also known as Halloween, did not get pages because I stayed at Rummelsbucht dancing until 10 in the morning.
All I want to do is sleep.
I woke up from a dream where I was in this amazing place off the coast of what seemed to be northern Scandinavia.
Yoga makes me feel better, even if I’m not feeling that bad.
Last night I wrote 5 pages to Rory’s family.
Can I write 3 pages in 17 minutes?
I was awake for a half hour before my alarm went off, but then I got so sleepy again.
I’m thinking about problems.
Last night I met someone who I’m hesitant to even write about because I am unfortunately already reminded of how falsely I tend to perceive these kinds of situations.
On Tuesday I went to Dr. Bürger and found out that I have a fungal infection in my intestines.
I didn’t think I’d do pages today, but now I have the perfect occasion to do so.
Ale told me last night that D told her about the really cool girl he met the other night – it was me!!!
Anton played with Powel and they did a bang up job.
I wanted more pens and Josef offered me 100.
I believe this is my third round of train pages.
It’s about 8:30am and D just left.
I’m starting to like morning pages more and more.
Tim’s coming over.
Yesterday Tim came over for tea.
Just made a smoothie with hemp milk, almond milk, frozen strawberries, cinnamon, chia seeds, the rest of my protein powder, and ginger.
Moments after I wrote the page previous to this one, D wrote me a text message.
Last night I created a table in a word document where I can record each date and the first sentence of each date’s pages.
It’s snowing and I have front row seats.
Slept late and it feels good.
I’m watching a girl across the street smoke a cigarette on her balcony.
I love my bed.
Do laundry, make Zuzia’s card, re-scan ngram drawings, plan for tonight and for foodwatch.
I’m writing in a pen Mom gave me to feel closer to home.
My window is wide open and it’s freezing.
I’m doing this in the afternoon because I had too many things I was pressed to do right away today, as I leave the day after tomorrow for New York.
I leave tomorrow!
Both my intention and expectation from yesterday morning have been fulfilled.
I’m in Mineola!
It’s very sunny and clear today.
It’s 7:34 and I’m on the way to Atlantic Terminal.
The sun is setting as I write this and it’s making me think about writing as the sun rises.
My thoughts are racing, so I’m giving up on more sleep.
The clouds I can see this morning are beautiful and seem to be in a rush.
It’s so bright and sunny where I am that I can see all the dust in the air.
Mom is driving me crazy.
I’m laying in Erin’s bed with Jenny laying on me under the blanket.
Mookie invited me to an open mic on Tuesday.
I’m going to miss writing “2015” – the way the 5 swoops down under the 1.
This is cheating in a way because although it’s Tuesday morning, I haven’t been to bed yet, so it doesn’t feel like an appropriate time for morning pages.
Yesterday felt very dramatic.
If I had written down half of what just ran through my mind, I would be done with three pages.
Well, I’m on the plane back to Berlin and I just managed to get a window seat after having started to come to terms with my original situation in the middle of four seats in the middle aisle of the plane.
I just realized tomorrow is New Year’s Eve!
I don’t like writing 6’s as much as I do 5’s, but otherwise I like 2016 so far.
My room went on fire last night.
I’m trying out being a disciplined artist.
This is the most responsible Sunday I’ve ever had so far.
These are the first pages written in what should soon be my shrine.
I realize only now that I forgot to meditate last night and the night before, too.
Today I will go on my own to a meeting at a nonprofit for refugees and migrants on behalf of what I’ll start calling, however prematurely, Kunst hilft!
Tomorrow will be the year’s first palindromic date.
The branches of the trees out my window are holding so much snow.
I always thought of my hyper legs as some kind of negative symptom of anxiety or restlessness, but after reading about the wiggle gene, I just look at it as a morning workout.
Friday lasted two days and Saturday never came.
I meant to bring home a small painting from the studio last night and I had it in my hands when I went to say goodbye to Rose, but it isn’t here.
Finally, a good pen.
Well, the very end of the month is finally here and it’s as tumultuous as I had anticipated.
I moved to this city 7 years ago on this same day.
My timing is impeccable.
This is notebook #4: recycled paper.
Last night I read the text of a TED talk by a Korean author.
I came out here to write like crazy in the sun with gloves on.
I’m sitting in what could be described as my current spare room.
The sun is shining on my face, but I’m angry.
Our first workshop is today!
It’s 7pm and I have officially eradicated any healthy sleeping pattern I may have had.
How am I?
So much to do.
Never wrote the date like that before.
What happened: Woke up about a half hour early.
Dare I say, I think I’m on the road to becoming a… morning person.
On the U-bahn to Mertensstr.
It’s 9am on a Sunday morning and it feels a little bit exhilarating to start a Sunday at this early hour after years of sleeping them away.
Am I destroying myself?
It’s been too long.
My efforts yesterday proved you really can create your own reality.
I’ve noticed this week that I’ve been destroying my throat and today I started the next medicine for my gut which is incidentally indicated for bronchitis and sinusitis, and my vaporizer arrived in the mail, which amounts to the welcomed burying of the old pipe.
I have the sensation of being an expert.
At this very moment Pascal and I are deciding the new (non)terms of our (non)relations.
The distance I’ve put between myself and common digital communications widely used by my peers and almost the rest of society as a whole is finally starting to show in some meaningful ways.
Or 3.14, which would make it Pi day.
Waking up hungry and having to take medicine a half hour before eating is really interfering with pages time.
I am on the Ringbahn and I can say that without exaggeration, the biggest dog I’ve ever seen is laying on the floor in front of me.
The sun is coming out big time and listening to Girl Talk on this St. Patrick’s Day, I miss New York and my people.
If I do in fact understand what a surge of cortisol feels like, I would say I had an extra dose surging through my veins this morning as I laid in bed awake, but wishing not to be.
Today is workshop #4 at Mertensstr.
Do I love music and rhythms so much because they justify my shaking legs, body bouncing and incessant tapping of my fingers and feet?
In two months on this day I’ll be 30 years old.
Insider tips on New York?
There’s really no rush today and I should exemplify this fact by writing and chewing slowly and consciously.
Jumped into bed with the intention of feeling comforted but I smashed my head on the wall in the process so I feel pain instead.
Spring is in the air!
That was the best Easter I’ve had in a long time.
March flew by like a flock of migrating birds with no regard for what shenanigans are going on below them on the ground.
The substituting of coconut oil for vanilla powder in my oatmeal was rather successful.
I’m totally beside myself… APRIL FOOLS!!!!
It’s true that logging these first sentences is affecting, or at worst inhibiting my descent into writing.
I’m sweating on the train with an empty stomach, looking forward to the day ahead.
Animal Collective made me feel more proud to be American than possibly ever before.
Having Erin’s famous tofu scramble for breakfast.
I’m lounging in the morning sun on the balcony in sunglasses with a hot tea.
Sittin’ in my kitchen watching you smoke a cigarette on your balcony, looking around, but you don’t see me.
Just a few words as I eat my oatmeal.
Just woke up and I’d say it’s a strange day so far.
My career and finances are a very rocky road right now.
Fri., 15. or 16.16
I’m cracking up – the going crazy kind not the laughing kind.
A harmonious date following a most discordant day.
My vision is a little funny again this morning.
My head hurts and I have a great idea.
Feels like Monday again.
Today marks my last month o f being in my 20s.
What if I wrote like this so pages went in double time today?
Decided not to do pages, but then needed to write things down anyway.
I dreamt that Erin lost her legs in a terrible monsoon or hurricane.
I went vegan 10 years ago today.
How many words can be written between Erkstr. And Hermannplatz on the bus?
I’m learning that alternative/holistic/homeopathic/non-Western medicine requires a lot of discipline, patience, and perhaps above all, George Michael-variety Faith.
I saw David at Gegen last night.
It has just occurred to me that all weekdays start with a letter that is straight (M,T,W,T,F) and all weekends days start with a squiggle.
Pages done right for once!
Pages, you really almost didn’t happen today.
Well, it’s the morning at least.
Can handwriting predict estrogen or testosterone levels in people?
It’s a beautiful day in the park and I’m enjoying the second morning of the day.
Although my stomach would like me to hurry up and make breakfast, the rest of me doesn’t want to let the sun disappear behind my house before I get to soak up its rays while writing on the balcony.
There’s too many things I want to do right when I wake up.
There is a man in the bathroom.
I was snippy/argue-y with D on the way home form Schwuz and I really feel bad about it.
On my way to pick up Mom from the airport!
It’s so special having Mom here!
I haven’t felt this anxious and worried in a while.
I’ll be in my 20s for three more days.
Just made the bus to Frankfurt with about 30 seconds to spare.
So many things seem to be falling into place.
I spoke too soon and declared this so different.
Alone again – am I really so surprised?
My heart is aching.
I realized yesterday that as I won’t be here for the better part of July, June and August are really crucial months for my portfolio.
It’s a gorgeous morning on Stuttgarter Straße.
I was thinking about how I was meant to be born on June 6th, but I couldn’t wait that long.
Woke up at 6:30, but earplugs gave me another 2 ½ hours of sleep.
Today is Gram’s birthday and also the day Grandpa died, I believe about 10 years ago.
So far I’m an impressively grown up 30 year old.
I estimate that I’ve written approximately 900 pages since I started this practice last August.
I dreamt that I accidentally submitted Kerri’s sketchbook in my application to Weißensee and got accepted.
This is my morning page.
Blue grass plant (who needs a name, come to think of it) is reacting so dramatically to his slightly new home of right in front of the window.
My plant is dancing ever so sweetly in front of the open window.
Yesterday I completed The Artist’s Way and almost completed a drawing.
A few things.
My natural waking up time seems to be either around 6:30, or perhaps my natural adequate amount of sleeping hours seems to be around 6 hours.
Yesterday was about challenging myself and I’m basking in the afterglow of having pulled it all off.
It’s raining and I’m tired.
Technophobes are at much greater risk for back problems.
Meine Deutsche Schreibschwäche ist gerade eine sehr präsentes Thema und so ich finde es passend, Seiten heute auf Deutsch zu schreiben.
It’s a sleepy, gray, chilly first day of summer in Berlin.
I’m so lucky to have a balcony and although we don’t get sun up here most of the day, I’ve come to appreciate that the sun we do get is in the morning.
I stayed out late again having a rip-roaring good time and enjoying the no-jacket weather like Sandy in the opening scene of Grease and as a consequence decided not to go to the Paint Now! meeting this morning and this is just something that can happen and I have to deal with it and 10:30am on a Saturday morning is not the best time for meetings.
I have to admit once again that project Open Book is influencing – worst case, inhibiting – my writing.
It always amazes me that playing (or being) the customer really works.
I dreamt that I broke into Gaby’s – or snuck? into Gaby’s – home while she was still in Hamburg and felt creepy and guilty about it.
My bed is my shrine, my body is my temple and my head is a prison, but the doors have been flung open.
This is my fresh, clean-slate vacation morning pages special, limited edition notebook.
Here I am sitting on a little table in the guest laundry room on the 5th floor of the Holiday Inn on Dexter Avenue in Downtown Seattle.
It’s light out but I have not idea what time it is and no idea if it ever got dark.
I’m in a big, empty theater, docked on a ship in a Alaska.
I feel hurt and judged (by Kerri) because I need comradery, empathy, and tolerance.
Good morning, Skagway!
The sound of the ocean is majestic.
Back in Seattle in a basement with Tyler and Erin.
I’m in Canada for the second time this week.
Will these be the last pages I write in Canada?
Disharmony in Portland.
Do birds know it’s Saturday?
This is the tiredest I’ve ever been in Chicago airport.
I am jetlagged; it’s way too early.
Okayyyy I’m up.
The zinnias are complaining in their own wilty way.
Just soaking up the last licks of balcony sun after a long, restorative, and much-needed slumber.
Doesn’t anyone think it’s strange that we spend 1/3 of our lives dreaming uncontrollably?
I’m scared to get my colonoscopy, endoscopy, and ultrasound.
I just smashed my thigh hard on my desk – a smash and a scrape combination.
O dear pages, I’ve missed you and I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.
If I could have hooked my brain up to this pen directly, my pages would have been written already.
Could it be that I have the life I dreamed of and that I crafted it meticulously, through the years?
The sun I was surprised to see out my window upon waking was my motivation for leaving my bed, but now it’s gone and I feel deceived.
It took me a minute to match the fork and the pen to their appropriate affairs on the table.
8/8/16 is a date on which magical things are absolutely bound to happen.
Careful readers will notice that there is a 25 day gap here – those days’ pages are in the hardcover notebook.
What the hell should I do about this LA trip?
That was a lot of dreaming followed by even more half dreaming.
Happy birthday, Dad!
I’m just thinking that Dad never answered or called me back yesterday.
Today is the one year anniversary of the beginning of my Morning Pages practice and I’ve seemingly lost the ability to spell Tuesday and I’ll also note that it’s 16.8.16, which just seems perfect for an anniversary, or any special occasion, really.