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Will my notepad burst into flames, my pen melt? 

Its the first time pen and notepad accompanies me to the sauna.

Will it be different from my voice recorder, which I also fear will succumb to the 120-degree Celsius dry heat?

The lighting is poor, it’s late and it’s my second time today.

It’s partially guilt that brought me back to the gym and spa, a 220-gram bag of m&m’s to be exact, and I’m hoping to sweat some of it away.

Pages curl, and stiffen, at the same time. The ink tracings from my writing breaks and ever so often prompting me to give the pen a good shake.

I continue writing…

Searching for one’s voice requires due diligence, but it is not a chore, its love for the arts and what it does for me.

In this pursuit, what is written is not as important as doing. Writing is where I currently place most value. In a way it’s selfish, I know that, but this is my space, my world.

It is part of my universe, part of my soul, and I am searching for my voice in the written words so I one day can snare the imagination of the open-minded, guide the willing and grow from love and energy shared.

What prompts me write? Any and everything. That which lays below the obvious. That which is tantalizing and poses many questions.

Whatever makes me feel there is more see.

Everything has a story to tell, and I am going to tell them all… From the minuscule to the infinite, all things has something to teach.

One only has to see, engage all senses, be open and mindful.

One of the tiniest things we can see with the naked eye, a grain of sand, is just about as plentiful here on earth as there are stars in our universe.

It makes you wonder about sand, doesn’t it? Come on, admit it. I know I do.

What might the story of one a grain of sand imprint upon us?

To the infinite and what makes it so.

To think and write is my reason for existing, I know that now.

It is who I am.

What I have always been and will forever remain.