Journals

February 8, 1991

I'm borrowing an idea that my boss does on his blog, Like Letters In a Bottle that was previously borrowed from another blogger, The Pen and Paper Blog.  The premise is that these bloggers still journal and write with pens, fancy ink and nib pens on nice paper or in nice mole skin journals. They then take a photo of their writings and post it on their blogs, inviting their readers to delve a little deeper into their blogs to decipher the written words.  It's also a way to stay connected to what is fast becoming a  dying art - writing.  Physical contact by hand to the words in your mind, being put down by human touch.

February 9, 1991

I too used to write with a nib pen in journals, all sorts of journals, since I was a kid up until I was in my 30's.  It wasn't a constant endeavor, there were years when I didn't write and times when I couldn't write - for fear of my mother finding my journals, fear of facing my own voice, not having my own voice, the years when I was in abusive relationships and the pain of writing anything was too much to bare.

February 7, 1991

February 7, 1991, Back of letter that I used to write to a personal ad

There were also years of writing out of frustration and loneliness, as a way to stave off the horrible depression and anxiety that I felt for so many years of my life. In my better, more manic days of my young adult years, I journaled more creatively, making collages as a part of my entries, to further illuminate my life experiences.  It was the influence of famous diarists and artists such as Frieda Khalo, Anis Nin, Joseph Cornell and other influential artists who's work I love that started me on that journey.  I stopped writing about 10 years ago but I occasionally will write whenever we travel - especially if we travel to far off destinations where I really want to capture the entire experience of our trip.  I still enjoy the collage and scrap-booking aspect of my journals and wouldn't want to lose the ones I still have in my collection.  All told, my the journals I have in my archives date back to 1984.  I have about 20 books, maybe more, and I've managed to save a huge cache of letters that were written to me and by me from the early 1990's - a period of huge development in my life.


Delving into my past, I decided to look at some old journals for dates that correspond to this month, February.  I thought it might be interesting to post some pages from similar dates from the past to see what was going on in my life at the time.  I couldn't find the exact corresponding date, but I found a few that were close to the early days of February in 1991; 1998 and a letter that I wrote to a stranger, in response to a personal ad I saw in a gay newspaper.  The over-arching theme of these entries is chronically what I did, who I spent time with, how I felt.  The ad response letter is more telling about me and my state of mind of who I was at age 23 then anything else I wrote at the time.  I did not hear a response back from the person, but now that I re-read it, at age (almost) 45, I can see that if I were a 39 year old woman wanting to meet a special someone, I would not reply back to a 23 year old girl, no matter how sophisticated she wanted to seem!  I'm mildly embarrassed by this letter but mostly, I want to give a warm hug to myself and tell that 23 year old that better days are ahead.  As it was, I did meet someone within days of having sent this letter.  I met, for me at the time, someone who I thought was the love of my life. She was, for a few years and then she wasn't.  But it was the first real love affair I had with someone that taught me a lot and helped me on my way to becoming a more fully realized and whole person. 

February 8, 1998

Nine years and several more journals later, I started becoming much more creative with my writing and journaling.  The collage aspect became a regular part of my writing, more important at times in helping me express what I was either afraid to say or didn't know how to say.  The blogging has taken place of my physical pen to paper writing; my photography is now my visual outlet.  I'm glad I have both but I do miss aspect of the old-fashioned arts.  For someone like me, who came from an abusive background, physical, emotional, sexual, having a diary or journal in which to confide was a lifesaver.  I regret having destroyed some of my earliest writings.  I burned a journal I kept in junior high because my mother had read parts of it.  A further violation of my body and mind.  While the musings I wrote were probably childish and banal it would have been illuminating to me to read it as an adult and parent today.

This project will continue on this blog from time to time.  I hope you will read some of the journal entries I've photographed and please, leave comments on your own thoughts and experience with journaling.