Just as I was feeling smug about posting all thirteen of the profiles it occurred to me that 3 + 3 + 6 = 12 and not 13. And so here's the missing profile, Sarah Bourne's. Sarah's wonderful work will be familiar to those of you who have read Dec. Journal as there is much of her work in that book. She was in Ireland with a group of college students on a trip that Ann Turkle and I led several years ago, and her journals then, as now, were spectacular. So here, last (but of course not least), is Sarah's profile.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Ann Turkle, whose page is shown above, should be familiar to to readers of Dec. Pg. and/or Dec. Jrnl. In addition to being a journalkeeper of many years, Ann is a writer and contributed the sections on writing prompts to the other books.
The final profile is Sandy Webster's. Sandy travels extensively to teach and to research. Her journals are her research reports and repositories. They are also the seedbeds of her artwork. She always makes her own journals, often casing them, as in the Australia journal shown here, so that she has all her materials in the same place as the journal. Sandy's book on using clay pigments is coming out soon. To research her book, she traveled to Australia, France, and Italy, collecting pigments as she went, and carrying them home in her travel journal cases in specially-designed little containers that held the paints she had made from the pigments.
Friday, January 27, 2012
And below is Kelcey Loomer's profile page.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
I'm following their order in the book, so today's three are Laura Ladendorf, Becca Johnson, and Benedicte Caneill.
Monday, January 23, 2012
I had some research to do in addition to some drawing, so I went in search of a garden center worker and got good information on dealing with the mealy bugs that are making life tough for my indoor lemon tree. The first page of my journal, shown here, has my notes about the lemon tree, including the results of the soil test I performed on it when I got home, using the little pH kit I had bought at the garden center.
At the end of December I got all the drawings out and spread them out on the floor. I loved them! They ended up in a show in Vienna, Austria, as well as digitized and published as a small edition of books that I called "December Paperwhites."
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Looking at the moon sheets brought us into a discussion of silence in journals as well as of different ways of structuring time (by lunar month instead of regular months, by fortnights, etc.) in journals. I was a little sad to realize I had no idea what phase the moon was in last night; even though I live in a valley that has gorgeous moonrises and moonsets over a mountain range, I've grown complacent about them. So as I drove home I thought about how a journal can help us notice things as well as remember things. And I decided to use my little square-inch-a-day journal to help me start noticing things that I take for granted here at home (but would record in a travel journal).
So, when early this morning I pulled out of the driveway and spotted the silvery crescent moon hanging in the branches of a tree across the street, I knew I had my noticing for the day. Later this afternoon, though, I noticed crisp little bunches of chives sprouting in clumps in some dead leaves at the base of a tree. So this is my breaking news for today: the moon is a waning crescent; chives are bursting through litter and duff! And that's what you'll find in my one-inch for today.
Friday, January 13, 2012
A number of people in my journal group have been keeping this type of journal, and they all have their own takes on it. I'm trying to loosen up and break out of the squares, but so far I have not been successful, other than to paint in an overall background that sort of reflects the weather. I love this practice as it takes only a few minutes each day. Then when you flip back through the year you remember so much more than you would have remembered without the journal. It helps me see patterns, too.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
So I opened email this morning (after sleeping a few hours) and what did I find but a wonderful comment from someone named Velma about a posting I made last year when I first started Real-Life-Journals. I went back and read the post Velma was commenting on, and I realized there IS a point to keeping a journal and even to blogging about the thing, even when it's as thin and pitiful as my journal from the past two weeks is. So this post is for Velma, to thank her for inspiring me. I dug into my journal from this week and it looked pretty lame, not one bit like an art journal or even a visual verbal journal. It looks more like notes taken on the back of envelopes. And I decided, well, that's what it is and that's what real about it.
This first entry I made the day I came down with the cold. I had hiked to the Brooklyn Museum, one of my favorite places in New York as well as one of my favorite walks (and our kids are moving in two weeks from Park Slope, where they've lived for twelve years, to Maplewood, NJ, so we will no longer live in this neighborhood when we visit them). I really wanted to be out and about as much as possible. But it was icy cold and very windy, and by the time I got home I knew I had made a big mistake. At any rate, this drawing is of a very fine divination and healing piece in the African collection. I would like to place my cold in a clay vessel and be done with it. I have some clay. . . .
This third page reflects the continuation of the wretched colds. We were slumped over tea in a neighborhood cafe on the morning of 12/31 watching pigeons fluff out their feathers as they roosted on top of a building across the street. I ran out of energy and never finished the drawing. The recipe was from the night before. I had copied it from Kerstin's recipe journal as I remembered it from another trip, way back when the kids lived in DC the year after they finished college at AU.
So, yes, these are pretty pitiful entries, but I think they're worth making. And my vow for 2012 is A Page A Day and a posting once a week. Pretty daunting, and I've already skipped yesterday. But onward. Someday this cold will fade away and the days will grow longer and the mornings will be warmer than the 15 degrees we had this morning.