When we were driving around the Midwest before Christmas, on one of the many roads we traveled we passed a Jeep with a spare tire cover that said (something like) "where is your playground?". I liked that and it has stuck with me all this time.
The journal page above? That's my playground. Well, not the actual journal, just the space inside myself that desires to create, to play, to express, to feel.
While I still love to hop a ride on a swingset at a playground, my playground isn't really a physical space, it's more a state of mind; a state of heart.