I've set up a quiet little place in the basement to work. It is warm in our basement we have a pellet stove that burns away with a bright cheerful flame. To my right is my computer that I have Pandora Radio playing through and at my little "desk" I've been messing around in my journal. I can stop and catch my breath and look no further for happiness. I've found happiness in a dark, crowded, overfull basement. On the pages of old books, words pop up, cut out-I arrange them in some sort of order. I call them poems for lack of a better word but they are nonsense except to me. My journal pages are full of nonsensical images cut from magazines colored with crayons, and pencils, words written that make little sense. Its a place I allow myself to play and I LOVE IT!!!