Diaries, Journals & Sketchbooks

oh, my!

I’ve always had some ambivalence about keeping a record of my life. I love the idea of having a stack of completed notebooks full of words about thoughts, feelings, and memories. I also hate the idea of dying without having burned them, and having my family page through them. I don’t want them to read about the day I was so angry with them that I called them bad names. Or see what a whiny complainer I am. Or read about things I may have done that I might not be proud of. You know, the deepest, darkest things.

I was scared away from keeping a diary when I was eight or nine. I had received a book much like the one below for my birthday and began writing all my precious thoughts daily. I may have kept it under my pillow or tucked in a drawer underneath socks and underwear. It didn’t matter: there was no place safe. I shared a bedroom with my next-younger sister. You know what happened next. She mercilessly shared the name of the third grade boy I had a crush on with our others sisters, neighbors and classmates. She was that sister. And I stopped keeping a diary. I’m still bitter.

I do like the idea of an art journal. Fewer (or no) words and mostly images, like a daily sketchbook , but centered around feelings and maybe events. I know many artists who do practice this way religiously, but I just don’t get it. Most times I tried, I would get in front of the blank page and say to myself, “now what?” until I gave up and put the book away. As much as I am a visual person, I also love words, so any record keeping I choose to do must include words.

I tried to move on to a daily sketchbook routine, more like a workbook of mark making than a “journal”, knowing that practice would improve my drawing skills and experimentation could lead to new ideas. Again, I found myself uninspired, not knowing what to draw or how to proceed. Also, I lack discipline.

Then last week, I watched a series of videos compiled by Louise Fletcher, an artist I admire and have learned a lot from, about creating an illustrated journal. One was an interview she did with Danny Gregory, whom you may know from his many books about drawing in the ordinary course of life and creativity. They inspired me to try again, in a little bit of a different way, to document my daily life.

Waiting for Kate. To be fair, I was early.

“Illustrated Journal” doesn’t sound intimidating to me. I see it going like this: s I’m going through the course of my day, during one of those periods of waiting for something, like a friend to show up for a beer, or the tea to brew, or the server to bring my sandwich, I can fill the time by drawing whatever is in front of me and perhaps later, coming back in with color and a few sentences or bullet points about the day. And no deep, dark secrets. That’s not hard, right?

I’m only a few days in, but I’m having fun. My only trouble so far is to remember that it doesn’t have to be perfect. Wonky perspectives and misshapen objects are going to happen, but it’s ok: this is just for me. Let’s see how long I can keep it up!

Hey, thanks for hanging out with me here. I appreciate y’all. Also, a reminder that you can find me on Instagram here.