I've kept one for as long as I can remember. When art found its way into my life, it went from just writing to also random sketches and a little bit of scrapbook action when I would tack in an inspiration photo or a card from an exhibit I liked.
But with all the excitement over the past year, its gotten me to wondering if my humble journaling habits aren't...I don't know...artistic enough?
I don't sketch. I don't draw. I don't watercolor. There's nothing epic in there.
Its just me and my words and a small porthole into my head.
I've been journaling too long this way to change it. It suits me. And for some reason, this year I decided I wanted a super fancy journal. I get a new one every year. For 2012 I wanted something special and pretty to spend my time with.
Here is what I chose:
Its a little rough around the edges, lots of pages. It can handle a sharpie.
Its got pretty much everything I need. Now I just need to fill it:
I've realized that there are some practices I have that I consider sacred. And this is one of them. I write on the computer all the time but there is an entirely different feeling to writing by hand, having to go slower, feeling the scrape of the marker against the paper.
Its meditation and peace and almost like a prayer.
One page at a time.