There are days when I look at my journal pages and see nothing but mess. Layers that don’t quite work together. Colors that feel off. A page that doesn’t have a clear direction, and may never.

And yet, those pages are honest. They are a witness to the moment I was in when I made them — messy, uncertain, but true.

That’s what this Soul Truth reminds me: I am exactly where I need to be.

There’s something sacred about making space—not just for our art, but for the unfolding of it. The wandering. The layering. The not-quite-sure-where-it’s-going moments that often turn out to be where the real magic lives.

That’s the space I’ve been craving.
And that’s the space I want to share with you.

We don’t always tell our stories in straight lines.
Sometimes, they emerge through torn paper and soft edges, through marks made slowly, intuitively.
Sometimes, the story needs space to unfold—not in bold declarations, but in quiet gestures and subtle textures.

This is the language of layers.