Universal Footprint

As I sit here and write these words, I can't help but think to myself; will they lead me anywhere or change my life in anyway? This thought particularly seems to constantly cross my mind. Do my everyday words leave a footprint on the universe... and if not... how can I change that? How can I be noticed? 

I am, in all honesty writing this now, to leave my own footprint and to shake off the fact that I am a Blog novice and to practice my love of writing.

Now, back to footprints…

To me, visually presenting the idea of the impact one person can leave on another’s life is though the idea of a footprint. A singular mark left to show who has come, and who has left. The type of print which sits within a mind and if not thought upon every day, is kept in the innermost corner, noticed every once in a while. I don’t want to forget or loose a footprint as I believe that people and events change us.

A way in which that I try and remember these people and places that I come across is by keeping and squirrelling away; tickets, photos, tags, posters, receipts, birthday, Christmas, Easter cards, note books, old CD’s and any object which holds the slightest significance of a memory to it . That becomes a lot of stuff. Stuff becomes junk. Junk is clutter. Clutter is crap. So I often find myself wasting hours procrastinating through what I call a "De- Hoarding" session. This is, unfortunately, what today's afternoon consisted of. I have a big art deadline on the 30^th. I do not have a lot of time to waste and chucking away rubbish was not on today’s todo list… that was I guess, mostly because I had written no todo list for today. If I had however written a todo list for today, I still would not have continued with my painting because, like most 17 year old's I know: I am lazy.

Anyway, today I came across some old photos and some great memories which I had actually half forgotten. I then recognize that my incredibly annoying hoarding habit is in fact, not so bad and that actually I enjoy rummaging through old things and choosing which bits of my collected memories are actually no longer relevant to me or hold any deeper meaning, and of course, the joy in stumblingly over a fond memory though a photograph or an old note book.

Finally, to leave a thought for anyone who might accidentally read this, hold on tightly to those feelings of nostalgia, but don’t forget to live for now, and remember that everywhere you walk, you leave a footprint.