This post is actually taken from an older one I made in a now defunct Journaling group I used to belong to, but I have taken it to put here for your enjoyment!
Journaling is more then keeping a written record. Serious journaling is a commitment: even a lifestyle. It pushes you to see/do/try more things, all for the sake of filling the pages. For making something from substance. Keeping a journal is more then an act of creation: it’s an act of destruction, too-and goes to show us that even some forms of destruction can be beautiful. In order to make a piece of art, you have to destroy the perfect blankness of the white page. You have to be willing to throw something down on it.
I’ve been writing, doodling, and drawing most of my life. I come from a very difficult past, and so keeping my thoughts down was a way to cope with everything I had to endure as a kid. Journaling is a legacy, if you look at it the right way. But it’s also a mixture of therapy via carthis- a way to let go, a way to set everything aside. A way to healing.
I had a very vivid imagination, even in Kindergarten. I blame my teacher, whomever she was, for all of this. Impressions last. Consider that.Also, I was obsessed with Halloween and Carousel horses.
Shots from what was appropriately my first journal ever. I kept it in a red folder-this was a travel diary for a trip to North Carolina that I took when I was 8 for a Family Reunion.
This was actually my first ever serious journal, and was bought for me by my now-deceased uncle. We went to libraries and museums a lot, and out of all the people I have to credit the most with both encouraging and supporting my art aspirations, I have to say it’s him. This journal endured hell and back, and even made it through a move to Germany.Stickers were generously donated from my friend Aino, who was my translator when I lived in Germany (I was 12) and couldn’t understand a damned thing anyone said to me. Most of this book was written with a Lamy fountain pen of the typical sort back there.
The real Frankenstein’s castle is nothing like the show in the movies.
All my classmates from my German school autographed this before I left. Also my stickers talked to me, apparently.
My next journal was a classic Heart2Heart journal that was sent to me as a Christmas gift from another uncle of mine in Michigan. Take a good look at the cover. This damned thing created a monster. I highly recommend these to kids who want to get into journaling too, BTW.
There are times I’m really glad I kept all of my journals. This page chronicled a very important victory for me: I was crippled with asthma pretty badly when I was a kid. There were even talks of a severely limited life-span (we’re talking months). One day when I overheard my doctor tell my grandmother I’d never be able to run, I said, ‘the hell with that’. . . and joined the track team.Now I’m a firefighter. Who knew?
This was the journal I kept my Freshman year of High School. Are you noticing a trend yet? Anyway, also had a huge things with dolphins back then. Not so much any more, tho, but it was still a nice journal.This was also the late 90′s, and I was a bit of a retro sorta hippie back then. We’re talking the flared jeans and everything. And also Matchbox 20 and Sheryl Crow. And No Doubt.
Oh yeah. Totally didn’t get to meet David Boreanez in person. But he did end up calling me for that birthday. Didn’t know it was him at first: friend’s brother worked on the stage of Buffy. When he called he goes ” Hi this is David!” and I was like ” I dunno any ‘David’.” and he laughed and said ” Uh no, David Boreanez. Someone told me you were a huge fan so I just wanted to say Happy Birthday”.The fan attack over that was epic.
I predict them a lot. I’m also usually wrong. Know lots about how they form, but not when they’re coming, apparently.Also, I don’t know how the hell I stayed so thin back then when I ate whole bags of Doritos by myself.
This one has to be one of my faves. Alright, so, right about the time my Sophomore year rolled around, I met my best friend Vi. I’d been in kinda a popular crowd, but I had elements of total geekdom: namely, my love for Star Trek: TOS that kind of made me a little odd one out in my clique. Cue new Clique. Now, at this point, a couple of things were going on, and you’ll see it reflected in my entries. One, I was in a (Christan) band at the time with another friend of mine named Promise: so this first book doubled as a music book where I wrote down the lyrics and notes for songs we were working on. Two, I was having home life issues. Majorly. Three, Vi and I started going to lots of Star Trek shows and conventions together. If you look below on one of the pages, you’ll see writing scrawled on them: one reads ” Michael Forest, Apollo” and the other reads ” To Mir-Best” and then a name. The first one is just what it sounds like-an actor from Star Trek; TOS that played the god Apollo in one of the episodes. The other one? The best and most awesome autograph I’ve ever gotten: RED SHIRT GUY NUMBER ONE. As in, the FIRST RED SHIRT ever to die in the FIRST EPISODE OF STARTREK. There you go-nerd out to your content.I also filled this one with images that moved me. For example: the one with the woman holding the picture? There’s a story behind that: she’d just lost her son when a bomb went off near their home in Iraq. This was three years before 9/11, folks. And the one with the sea eagle was symbolic of a man I loved once very, very much, who died my Jr. Year of High School.
The next one you’ll see is actually a side-by-side ‘journal’ I did in addition to the one up above. I called it my Inspiration book, and it was essentially just a collection of anything and everything I fan’d over, thought was cool or neat looking, or just caught my eye in general. Eventually it got so full I couldn’t close it.
The poem above I wrote, and it was inspired by a video we had to watch in history about the great depression. An image in particular moved me: a little girl with a dirty face being hugged by a very salty worn looking man sitting by the side of the road selling apples.On the right, Van Gogh, who is my art idol, BTW.
I told you I was artsy fartsy.
This is still my favorite page of all time. One, because I think I just like the colors.Two, that quote dictates a lot of my political views. Also, my grandfather on one side died on the beach at Normandy. He was on the German side, BTW. RUN AWWWAYY. . . .
That whole little paragraph there? The colored text was actually the name of the most KICK ASS LIPGLOSS EVER MADE. ALAS, it’s not made any more. I MISS U, 90′s!
Message heard, O Mr. Moody.
Both of these teachers should go down in history for being AMAZING role models. I’m glad I still have these. These two were very inspiring people.As for the next journal. . .
This one was started after a three or four year break. I’m sure I wrote in other stuff in the interim, but this was the first actual journal I managed to finish. It was started in June of 2008.
This was the book of major sorrow: I was having a hard time during this one. A bad breakup started it off. Eventually, though, it segued into my current marrige and happier circumstances. So it was a win in the long haul. This journal was mainly text only.
As mentioned, mostly text. But finally, FINALLY, we come to my very first Embodiment journal, which was started in January of 2009.
Please be warned: some of the entries below are very heavy with political opionion. If you’re not comfortable with that, then feel free to skim.
And meh IRL huzzy.
Despite my gender dysphoria, Cass and I made a conscious decision to have a child about this time. The next Embodiment journals featured all the stuff associated with that, and resulting behbeh. At this point, I was still using lined journals, but this was the last one. I stuck to Moleskines after.
The happiest day of my life.
WARNING: SOME POLITICAL OPION PIECES BELOW. DON’T LOOK IF YOU’RE EASILLY OFFENDED.
Back in 2009 when I was carrying my daughter, I took up gardening to help pass the time. One of the plants I raised was a sad looking Passionfruit vine that quickly recovered with some TLC. Gulf Fritterlies are butterflies that are attracted exclusively to passionflower vines.
I have no idea how they managed to find my ONE vine in like the whole city, but they did. And watching them grow from caterpillars to these beautiful butterflies was immensely satisfying.
~Crows~ 2013 Acrylic, Watercolor, Oil Pastel and Media in Moleskine Journal Inspired by the works of Vincent Van Gogh