i didn’t believe gorin that day @ the art institute when he said that he only wrote something down when he could be proud of it. i’m not quite there yet, for if i was, my paper would remain blissfully blank, but i’m beginning to see the truth to his words, for so many times this weekend, i felt an emotion i wanted to capture. yet, everytime i ventured near my notebook, i couldn’t seem to find the words. everything was trite, or worse cliched. and so, i resisted. i wonder though, does holding oneself to such a standard defeat the purpose of reflective writing, for so much is left unsaid.


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