I only have four pages left in my current journal.
(I really don’t like the term ‘journal‘ but neither ‘sketchbook‘ nor ‘scrapbook‘ really fit either. The book is almost as full of taped in mementos, sketches, and the words of other people as it is of my thoughts and experiences. I think I’ll just start calling it my ‘book‘. Yeah.)
Four pages left is an awkward transitional time for me, coming to the end one book but not quite ready to let go of it, not ready to start the next one (all those blank pages, pristine and unfamiliar). I bond with these books to a very high degree but the bonding process usually takes a while; this current book took almost a year before I really felt comfortable with it. (I know that, because there’s an entry documenting it). (Btw, Here’s the post I wrote as I was transitioning from my previous book to this current one)
It’s fascinating (and sometimes scary) to flip back through the pages and years and see the change. So many changes. All these tiny little instances equaling over two years of change. That may contribute to why the jump from one book to the next is so awkward for me~ it represents the passage of time in a more dramatic way than merely turning a page. I don’t deal so well with change. Perhaps that’s a part of why I do this little ritual of documentation; trying holding on to moments, to freeze little instances: a defense against the inevitable progress of time…. I’m not sure. But it IS for my sanity, that’s for certain; a place to store the dangerous stuff, a way to bleed out the toxins.
The next book is all ready for me to begin, a lovely moleskin journal with blank pages (I’ve never had a moleskin before, curious to see what all the fuss is about). But I am still holding on to this current book, making those last four pages stretch. And also, I’ve been cheating: going back in time, finding gaps in the preceding pages where I can scribble in a quote or a drawing: A page from ‘o7 may also contain content added in ’08, ’09 and ’10! (all duly recorded w/ date and location, because that’s my MO).
Eventually, however, these last pages will be done, the book full. Time to move on.
New pages.
amen! i could have written this same post. i am totally bonded to my book. i keep it in my purse/bag. it goes everywhere with me. its been with me for several years now and i still have a little while to go. i’m sure i will feel the same way as you when it’s time to move on. i’ve been there before.
What beautiful art work in your journal, G! I might actually keep a real journal if I could draw like that. 🙂
I love this. Journaling (booking?) is such a serious, personal experience. I am actually the opposite of you – I can’t wait to get on to my next book, though I still do some serious bonding with whichever book I have at the time. My current book is the smallest one I’ve ever used. I can’t tell you how many of my entries start with, “Oh, little pages.” Also, at the beginning of every new book, I feel obliged to list for future readers the order in which they should read all the previous books, so they know what to look out for. This is tricky because one of them is the first journal I ever had (at age 8), which I lost about 30 pages in, then found and completed at age 17. That’s a fun transition to look through. 🙂
galen, this is lovely. i admire you in so many ways and for so many reasons, your booking being one.
i’ve tried to keep a book but i just can’t convince myself that what i think or feel is that important to record. that probably why i don’t blog so much.
reading over my words, it seems it’s kinda silly to say that. but you know me well enough to know the reasons behind the words.
i’ll give journaling, or booking, another go. i’m only sad i don’t have the sketching abilities to make the pages more interesting.