Making Journals

A while ago, I got the idea into my head to make junk journals to sell on Etsy. I got a variety of papers and cardboards and ephemera together to make them and enjoyed the process.

While decluttering last month, I found my stash of handmade junk journals. I’d sold none. I’m not even sure if I’d put them up for sell. Sometimes as a creative, you can have these ideas and instigate them only to fall short of the finish line. Something else might take your attention away, something more shiny or you could allow fear and doubt to step in and paralysis the process from moving any further.

I’m not sure what happened with these junk journals but I felt the urge to just use them on my return from Iceland.

I need something that’s self contained and discreet as I put myself back together after the time away. I felt free and unhurried and playful while away. Now back I have to slip back into responsibilities and worries and demands from others, and to be honest it’s a rough textured blanket against my skin at the moment.

I’m still remembering and wanting to be with the smooth soft caresses of Iceland. And dream into the landscape.

So maybe keeping the bar low. Just making sure I turn up to the page daily and working out the feelings and kinks is enough right now.

Almost like beginning again. Each new day is day one. No pressure and no comparisons just be. I feel attempting this in a clean journal, a clean slate is doable at the moment.

Hence cracking open my homemade junk journal and just allowing whatever needs to turn up, turn up.

When my journal matches my moods

Current Squeeze

March is nearly over. I spent a lot of it getting ready for a trip that didn’t happen. I’m still sore around the wound but will share here at some point.

The journal above which I share is the journal I created for my travels. It’s an Elle Decorating Magazine which I’ve repurposed. I pulled out the images and text I wanted to use in my visual journaling and then painted over the remaining pages.

It’s rough and ready. Messy and grungy and in the process I didn’t realise how much it has reflected my mood.

It’s not perfect.

I’ve been all over the place in terms of my moods these past few weeks. Serene and blissed out to stressed and anxious and angry.

And this messy, at times ugly, journal has captured it all. And I am grateful for its space and non-judgmental welcome.

I’ll be back here over the coming days to share the spreads that have been created in this journal. Just so you can see a bit more of my process and practice.

One more thing. The back of this journal was converted into a mini guide book to take on my travels with me. Since I didn’t make that trip, I haven’t been back into the back of the journal. I was also contemplated chucking the whole thing and start a new journal as I felt it would be painful and annoying to continue to use the journal as its purpose was for my time away.

But instead of avoiding the pain and frustrations and disappointments, continuing to use the journal has meant I haven’t run away from the feels but have allowed myself to sit with the feels.

I’m not sure if that means I’m a glutton for punishment or if I’m just all in with this life, my life of attempting to thrive rather than just survive.

Still showing up in this journal, just created from a magazine man, has given me the time and space to work through my feelings and come through feeling grateful for my life and the people I have around me who care about me and love me.

Visual journaling, it kills me in how it’s such a powerful tool for staying present and connecting with the self. Amazeballs!

The Message

What advice would you give to your teenage self?

Darling, you were never too much. You were only too big and too bold to those who couldn’t see their own light.

Baby, you were never too much. Your cup overflowed in ways that the parched could not understand

Honey, you were never too much. You were always just right.

Appreciation

While waiting for the shower to run from cold to hot, I think of three things I’m grateful for today:

I’m grateful for CoCo ( mini convertible borrowing from a dear friend) because it got me places I didn’t to get to today. All in one piece.

I’m grateful for the warm oat milk poured over Weetabix, with chilled blueberries and chocolate sauce. Comfort food.

I’m grateful for the chance to see my daughter today as I dropped off a book with her after school before she went on to her dad’s.

Pages/ Soul of Dark n Light

Visual Journaling Spread

In the garden, warmth of sun on right cheek. Dark skin soaking up the heat.

Other cheek caught in the shade and cool breeze.

Body experiencing so many different sensations at the same time.

Gratitude to be in this body in this present moment. Present. Visual journaling outside.

Page black paint and collaged blossom papers. The light catches upon the pages, illuminating the wisdom and joy within.

Gratitude to be in this space in this present moment. Present. Visual journaling inside.

Soul dark hued and sadness rage collaged. The light catches upon the soul, remembering the true nature within.

Black Fatigue

It’s been one hell of a week. And it isn’t over yet. I just feel exhausted, drained and a bit bruised and a battered with the world. Can I say the system?

No. I’ve stopped using these kind of non-descriptive terms along with the likes of ‘institutional racism’. As these are terms used to conceal the truth, to deflect attention away from the people who create racist policies and practices. Who act on their racists attitudes and ideas. Who internalise racism and reflect it outwards against others that look like them.

I’m so sick and tired of being made to feel grateful for the crumbs that are thrown my way. That I should shut up and put up and a smile sweetly if I’m invited to the table. That I shouldn’t rock the boat, that I should be shamed or struck by fear into silence. Smile sweetly and just nod my head.

I’ve played the game and helped others tick their boxes as at the time I believed it would bring about change. That once I’d convinced them of my humanity, explained my existence and displayed my intelligence and worth then they would have to listen to me and take me seriously.

I’m sick and tired of this being played out again and again. All I can do is speak up. All I can do is work hard to create opportunities and experiences that weren’t there before for others and myself.

All I can do is call out injustices and imbalances in power and access where I see them. To not stand on the sidelines bickering but creating change on my own terms to make society a more equitable place.

I’m no longer gonna allow others to be putting their labels, insecurities and lenses on me. I know what my intentions are and I know they come from my heart. And I’m not sure everyone can say that when we live in a world which celebrates the achievements of one over the many and rewards the ones who are amenable saying the words that others want to to hear rather than speak their truth.

Guilty was the verdict in the George Floyd murder trial for another bad apple. This is hardly justice if the murders of Black and People of Colour by the Police, through state sponsored terror continues. There needs to be more accountability, there needs to be a cutting down of the whole rotten tree, there needs to be a redistribution of power.

I’m so sick and tired of the infighting, of the lack of listening, of the personal agendas and vested interests. Why are we living as if everything is scarcity, therefore everyone’s in cut-throat competition. Instead of embracing the reality of abundance. There is more than enough to go around except a few insist on hoarding a majority share. If everyone was given the right conditions, their rightful share/ place/ space to thrive, we would each fulfil our own potential.

Just like nature displays. Just as she sets the example. Today on International Earth Day, I just wish more individuals connected with nature, and therefore themselves and each other. The most powerful energy is love. But too many people continue to feed and act on hate.

And I’m just sick and tired of this being the case.