Beautiful blank journals await my pen. These ornate books with their untouched pages seem too daunting to open let alone abuse with my prose.
I write all the time. I scribble ideas on envelopes and the backs of receipts. At a stoplight I might excavate my purse for a piece of paper to write an idea, still writing as the light turns green and my eyes are on the road (which accounts for the barely readable appearance of my notes).
This method gives me results—articles, poems, and an upcoming book. Still I continue to hope that I’m a journaling sort of person.
Some of my well behaved writer friends swear by a method called “morning pages” popularized by Julia Cameron’s in The Complete Artist’s Way: Creativity as a Spiritual Practice.
Every morning before doing anything else, the writer produces three handwritten pages. This is supposed to spark creativity. These friends fill journal after journal with rants, wonderings, hopes, and big ideas. I don’t kid myself. I’m pretty proud that I manage to floss my teeth but that’s it for daily rituals. Okay, I lied, I don’t even get around to flossing daily.
I’m particularly interested in arty journaling. I can slap together a collage and that gives me the silly idea that I could (in the optimistic land of Some Day) create some kind of visual journal. Hah. Mostly I savor the beautiful journals shared by folks online. Go ahead, search using terms like “visual journal” or “art journal” to sink into some pure aesthetic pleasure.
I also keep accumulating books that inspire. Most of them are much too daunting, with artistry well beyond the hopes of a simple cut and paste girl like me. But I have to admit I find three books particularly accessible. How to Make a Journal of Your Life by Dan Price, Everyday Matters by Danny Gregory, and An Illustrated Life: Drawing Inspiration from the Private Sketchbooks of Artists, Illustrators and Designers also by Danny Gregory.
My newest journal-related idea? I’m envisioning a get-together with fellow journal slackers. We can bring our sadly unused journals and pent-up verbal sneezes. We can bring every bit of ephemera that might be fun to cut, paste, and color onto the pages. And then we can turn the quiet, reflective practice of journaling on its head while we scribble and talk and laugh and collaborate and finally, journal.
Got a better remedy for a journal slacker?
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3 thoughts on “Confession of a Journal Slacker”
Hi, great post! the art journal pages look like a-lot of fun. I am going to have to try one. 🙂
(Only recently found your blog so this is a late coming reply.) I am totally your sister in being a Journal Slacker. I actually used to journal when I was in the single digits and into my very early twenties. Then not. I turned to the same thing as you – the non-journal method of journaling (I laughed seeing your photo – it could have been from my counter). My difference? Only that I don’t then create a blog or other writings from those notes.
I pine to make those arty journals. I want to join your get together with fellow slackers! Have you done it yet?
Hello Poetry Rain Girl (love that name),
I encourage you to hang out with fellow slackers as often as possible. I had an event that was not entirely for journal slackers, but could have been. It was a collage party, fun in the way simply social get-togethers are not. It felt like play. Here are some photos: https://lauragraceweldon.com/2012/10/18/throw-strangely-amusing-parties/