A long time ago...well, not so long ago, but long enough to begin that way...my first grade teacher made us start keeping a journal. I liked it. I wrote about the snowmen I made and the boys that I adored and the girls that tattled on me, and how spoiled my little brother was. I kept writing in it for quite some time, then life got busy and I put it aside, like an unfaithful lover. But my journal was still there, faithfully reminding me of all of the good and bad times that I'd had as a child, and for each word written, several more memories would accost me and I would drift through my past, wondering at who I was so short a time ago, but long enough that that person is no more.

For every time I put it down, I picked up my journal and wrote furiously for a few months, and as a result, I now have six volumes, stuffed with drawings and newspaper clippings and photographs and letters.

For some reason, though, it is hard for me to go pick up a pen, anymore. I would much rather sit and type, here at my computer. And so, I have begun to inscribe my journal here, in the wires and circuitry and sizzling current of the Internet...

Great Chain of Dragons

January 2002

The Archives

Spring 1997

Summer 1997

Fall 1997

Winter 1997

Spring 1998

Summer 1998

Fall 1998

Winter 1998

Spring 1999

Summer 1999

January 2000

February 2000

March 2000

Draconity En Mass

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