Laurie's Journal

There is a quiet rhythm to life right now—standing between where I’ve built my roots and where the horizon is calling me next. For a long time, the familiar streets of northern New Jersey, the everyday conversations behind the counter, and the steady cadence of routine were the entire frame. But stories have a way of outgrowing their margins. What started as voice notes, stray thoughts captured on lunch breaks, and pages written late at night has slowly taken shape into something real: I Dream of Purple Skies . Publishing your own story isn’t just about putting words in print; it’s about claiming space for the moments that made you, the family that grounds you, and the dreams that refuse to stay small. Every time I think of the Southwest—of the open desert air, the mountains outside Albuquerque, and the family waiting there—that title feels less like a metaphor and more like a road map. Transitions are messy and rarely move in a straight line. Packing up a life, balancing the everyday ...