The Joy of Journaling

http://www.kerismith.com/WishJarTales/Journal.htm

"Everybody is original, if they tell the truth, if they speak from their true self. But it must be from their true self and not from the self they think they should be. So remember these two things: you are talented and you are original." -Brenda Ueland

I was first introduced to the artist's journal while attending my first year of art school. I was taking a very inspiring and free form class taught by a young sculpture and installation artist. On the first day we were given one of the few assignments, which was to keep a visual journal. The journal was to include many aspects of daily living, thoughts, new ideas, criticisms, responses, images, objects, etc., whatever we wanted to include. So on my way home from school I stopped in Chinatown and picked up a black and red lined journal for a dollar. We were told not to get something too fancy, preciousness would create a pressure to make the work good. We were to avoid good in favour of quantity. On the inside of the front cover I wrote this:

This book is divided into two parts. This side is my everyday writings. Starting from the back are excerpts/quotes from the books I've been reading. These are a big part of my life from day to day. I wanted the writings from these books to be continuous and uninterrupted by my daily comments.

The first page has the title "Explorations" underneath which is an engraving of a solitary tree in full blossom.

I struggled through the writing part in the beginning, mostly relying on other people's words since I didn't trust my own voice at that point. Several philosophical arguments (bitter feminist rants) are recorded, some from various teachers or whatever book I was into at the time. A quote "Do I dare disturb the universe?" from a Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock by T.S.Elliot. A map of Judea gleaned from an atlas. In the beginning I worried a lot about how it looked, and what people would think, very aware that someone would be reading it eventually. At the same time there was something about the process that really moved me, I loved the presence of this little world that I carried with me throughout the year, everywhere I went. We developed a relationship, this journal and I. I started to notice that I felt bare if I had mistakenly forgotten it. Because the writing was difficult for me, I just continued to gather things to add to it. Cards from galleries, ticket stubs, random sketches, and quotes. There is a very worn elastic in the middle that originally held many of these items into the book. At the end of the year the instructor noted that he while he enjoyed the collected stuff he would have liked to see more personal insights and feelings. I took note but was really very proud for having actually finished something. Being a chronic "unfinisher" I was used to accumulating many "started" journals, but never any completed ones. The energy going into it was always great, but eventually my attention would waver and I would be on to some other project, a piece of knitting, a watercolour painting, potted plants.

My turning point came when I made a new friend over the Internet; a young, recently published writer named Joanne. We met in a newsgroup on "writing for children", and immediately felt connected to each other. I was doing a lot of caregiving for my mother during that time while she battled cancer (a battle which she lost after two years of hospitalization.) Joanne was older than me and had been through more of the painful jolts that life throws at you than I had. She was the first person I could talk to about my grieving, and always picked me up when I hit the ground flailing. I felt normal when I talked to her, like life was supposed to be this painful. At the time I was travelling back and forth to the hospital every other day, 15 minutes on the streetcar, 35 minutes on the subway, and an hour on the bus. Add to this the waiting in between and you have a lot of time for writing. I started journaling again by writing to my new friend. For some reason this really helped me to get past my writer's block, which was really just a need to write "well". I began by describing my day to her, talking about where I was what I was reading, sharing with her some great quotes or a new tea flavour I has discovered. When I returned home in the evening I would transcribe the letter into an email. Slowly the journal started to take on a life of it's own. As my relationship with Joanne dwindled due to heavy schedules and major life changes my new connection with the journal continued.

The journal provides a safe haven for creation, a place to experiment and push ourselves, to develop new ideas without fear of judgement or the pressure to do things well. In this way it acts much like art school did for me, a place of becoming. In it we can give ourselves permission to vent, spew, complain, and be to ourselves. By adding the visual aspect it becomes a container for our experiences, we can use it to collect, to document, or just be. The journal is an excellent vehicle for seeing what we are responding to, to see our own unique voice. I believe we become more in tune with our inner world when we become our own research projects.

Watching a journal fill up and evolve is like seeing the pieces of a mosaic come together to form a whole. All the pages take on different forms and colours they show different sides of a distinct personality. At first the process seems overwhelming, the blank pages confront you, but slowly pieces get added, new ideas emerge, and it evolves into a beautiful tapestry of your experience. And because it serves as a playground we can allow it to be what it is, not necessarily a precious object, but a thing to be reinvented every day. Start new; start fresh as much as possible. Push yourself into new and strange places. Think of it like being in a large clothing shop; allow yourself to try on something completely outrageous, a bright green sari, a spacesuit, a red satin evening gown, a tiara. Maybe you have a secret passion, a love of medieval paintings, an interest in erotic literature, a vision of a more passionate you, try it on via the journal. No one will see it but you. Just have fun.

What I like about the visual journal is that it records your daily life but includes texture, colour and life. After a while you start to see the world with "journalistic" eyes as a reporter might, taking in the small and colourful details that make up a good story. You become more tuned into your surroundings. When I first started out with the journal I wanted to be like someone else, wishing I was a better writer, a better artist. But after doing it for a few years I notice things have shifted for me and now I just want to be as much of myself as I can. I take joy in being myself. Closer to the truth.




Keri Smith is a free-lance illustrator and native of Toronto. A graduate of O.C.A. she has a wide following of clients in North America and Japan. She currently resides in a “magic” cottage in Flesherton, painting, illustrating, creating, writing, and living out loud. Her first children's books, entitled Story in a Box have just been published by Chronicle Books.