There are journals. Paper, like a book, you can look at again. And these days, digital. The blog is a digital journal. It remains and can be shared. But my Real Journal. It is neither, not a thing really. Some loose pages and thoughts . Nothing but evidence of going. Perhaps is just an action. Exercise. Had been mostly until sharing became a thing. I remember when it was just loose thoughts. And how I evolved as a result. Without the need of approval or even input. Probably most of it was not even noticed. Still, there was becoming. Creative acts. Peace in that. Yeah, the Real Journal is just an exercise in giving thoughts form. There is more of a tendency to document these days, in these times, but it used to be just talking out loud , to myself, or pen to paper on the back of a shopping list and a lot of crumpled up paper. There is still, actually a lot of that.
I finished the grapes.
How can we share the real process? Can we?
The tree is growing, not from a seed but from a thought . . .
Yes, thank you for putting that into words.
The branch-tree seems like it belongs there; I can imagine in embroidery.
Someone gave me a diary when I was 15 or so. I led a boring and virginal life and had nothing to write about so I made up stories about my fantasy love life. My mother read it and boy did I catch hell.I don’t know she ever believed it was fiction. I have been afraid to keep a journal ever since. Writing haiku is as close as I come. My journal is all in my head.
I haven’t had covid yet either. Yet is a big word….
your diary story, gosh. I never kept a personal diary in physical form. It never occurred to me. I did talk to myself a lot, And I drew. But there was no “book”. I kept a scrapbook for a while but that was a project for girl scouts.
We are careful I guess, and a little bit hermit like. We’ll see.
I always love the beasts, but the fish…today the fish is really charming. And the waves…I’ve had waves in my thoughts lately…going with the flow, the much needed reminder of that.
As far as ‘process’…I think we can show it, but in a looking back, with some documentation along the way to use as a reference. But, I think if we try to tell as we go – it could really impact flow and perhaps change whatever it is that we are doing.
My current journal-doodle book is ‘not’ in chronological order, though I’ve dated a few pages or entries on a page, for myself? for some reason? – and I have taken note of the when things took place (not that it matters and it is usually much longer ago that I realized! ha).
There is indeed a sense of safety, calmness in this cloth. A Security perhaps that all will be well, with the moon and the tides…we will be safe and held well. xo
yes, I think you are right about sharing and how audience changes our behavior. Thank you for your thoughts here,
My journalling is an untidy heap of memos on scraps of paper, some screwed up, some crossed through! My proper sketchbooks are lined up neatly on the shelf, too pristine and grown up to disturb… the scraps seem to surface amazingly when they’re needed…
I have no orderly journals. Except the blog…maybe because someone is watching 😂
As a writer and a very private person who is creative in many forms, this so resonates with me. I can remember standing in line at the bank jotting something down on a napkin I found in my purse, not wanting to lose it before it was my turn, but with never a thought that process would be shared publicly. I still try to keep a lot of it private but it’s so different now. Thank you.
It’s so so different. I find myself think about it a lot…let’s think some more…
I think of process as a river….we are just catching it and holding it for awhile. 🙂
I had this vision when I first looked at the top image… I saw a rug draped over the porch rail or window sill (the brown bit with fringe) in Greece, full moon shining behind, Aegean Sea lapping below. It gave me immediate pleasure and a stab of longing as I probably won’t go back to that place that has a large room in my heart. Stories upon stories grown from bits of cloth and thread. How wonderful is that?
I picture you there ..how amazing is that???
❤️
“grape stem as tree” –all part of the process.
family member we hadnt seen in years stopped in on Sunday, brought me covid.
yeehaw.
Is it Spring yet?
ha
Oh just great, was fearful going to Bruno’s bday party…
Yah, I was NOT a “happy camper” ( I’ve been oh so verrrrry cautious) ugh ugh
Stay well, my friend!!
( I’m feeling much better today, what a relief!!)
Yeah, don’t know too many folks but me and he who have not had it…
Ditto! Ditto! Ditto!
i think we keep figuring out process all the time, it evolves. and paper and fiber and stitch and maybe your journal will be be very very thick.
Hey you, you’re right! Process is always in front of us…
I agree that log cabins for me seem like a calming place, and I can’t get my mind to move on to something else. 💙🕊️
I LOVE the brown with the blue. Had to say that first.
I also love the empty spaces. I feel obligated to fill them until I realize they are a place to breathe and I need them.
Your log cabin looks like a calm place to be for a while. In this case, being there means observing from here. Hugs and peace to you and everyone who reads this.
Gee, that would be a great title. A calm place to be for a while.
We do need the spaces…
I think you can try to share the real process…but only evidence of the process can truly be shared. Your grape stems, evidence of a process that preceded it. And a happy tummy!
It’s different evidence I think, cuz it’s not a thing…
Thanks for that.