I remember giving a talk several years ago, on journaling in general and my practice in specific. It was at a Unitarian Church, for their Sunday "service." The group was friendly and welcoming and members were forthcoming with their own journal experiences.
One journal keeper was particularly concerned about how I was using the word "journal." During the question portion of the talk, and later during lunch with a smaller group he continued to press home his definitions of journal, record book, and diary.
It puzzled me. I care about language too. (I also realize it changes over time.) He was a life-time journal keeper just like me. (I later got to see the volumes of his life—written not illustrated.)
I also didn't think the points he was arguing were very important. Websters Dictionary on line defines journal as:
"a daily record, as of occurrences, experiences, or observations: She kept a journal during her European trip."
He seemed hung up on the "daily aspect" (in part because of the etymology of the word, from old French, journal meaning daily). He had kept daily records since he was a young man. Yes the dailiness mattered to him. (But in the grand scheme of a life, I've said it many times, to me the daily aspect is less important than the whole aspect. By that I mean a day missed here or there is not to be sweated over—I've seen too many new journal keepers discard the habit because of one missed day. For this man, were he to miss a day the entire shelf of volumes would be worthless. That makes things too fragile I think. I have kept a journal daily for years on end. Then missed a day, and filled pages daily again for more years. No journal police showed up to cart away my collection of journals and strip me of my license to record my life. It is a daily practice, but it is not busted if life intervenes and a day is missed.)
The one thing I remain convinced of to this day, is that there were any number of more interesting topics we could have discussed or argued about on that day, especially as we already had so much common ground.
But definitions matter to people. The definitions we create or adhere to for ourselves have an impact on how we relate to others and how we live our lives and how we create.
I make a lot of books, and one day I noticed the marks on my glue bottle told me a story about my life as a bookbinder, and a person who likes to know how much materials cost. You can read a short blurb about my glue journal here.
Think about the following—with your journal close at hand for a consult if necessary:
•How do you define "journal" or "journaling"?
•What does a journal have to include in order to fit your definition?
•How does your definition of a journal limit your use of the journal, and even your creativity? Why are these limits necessary?
•How has habit (and which habits) contributed to the negative and narrowing definition you use?
•If you are verbal try keeping a non-verbal journal for a specific period of time. (Warning, this can be stressful as I found out during my 2010 International Fake Journal Month Journal.)
•If your journal is visual and contains no writing ask yourself why. Is this still useful?
•What can you do, starting today, to move away from limits you've accepted or placed on yourself and your journal?
For me, when we stop quibbling about the definition of journals and start examining their utility, process, and results, the discussion becomes a whole lot more interesting. We all have unique brains—journals at the best of times, unfettered by imposed and restrictive definitions, can help us learn about those brains—how they work, play and entertain.
Know how you define something. Know why you define it that way. Realize how this impacts your creative process in positive and negative ways. Devise a strategy to flip it all on edge—to your benefit.
Now that you have your definitions sorted out try this:Find an ordinary object and make a journal out of it. Do this as I did by writing on the object, or adhering paper and other items to its surface, or by cutting bits of it away (to create a reductive journal of which nothing is left in the end). (If you do the last approach, be sure to take photos to document the journal if documentation maters to you.)
When you complete this project ask yourself again: How do I define "journal"?








Interesting concept, that anything can be a journal. I'm sewing a bag right now that I have painted and written on, maybe I'll call it journal bag? I sure will carry around my journal/diary in it! :-)
Posted by: iHanna | June 22, 2010 at 03:36 PM
iHanna, most definitely! I have a couple journal bags for carrying journals. Some are made by friends for me with strictly utilitarian focus, and one is made by me with an image from one of my journals printed on cloth and used in the bag—but these bags are only journal bags in the sense that they contain journals.
If you write and paint and journal on your bag then it will truly be a JOURNAL bag and beautiful besides!
Posted by: Roz | June 23, 2010 at 12:50 PM
I have found that when I try to do the "daily" journal, it doesn't work for me. I get discouraged if I fail to write on it one day! And I always fail. So, forget that. Mainly, I write on scraps of paper, receipts, envelopes, whatever is at hand. My poems surge from the debris around my room. I find quotes and write a poem, or I write a poem in a scrap of paper and forget it, sometimes I find a poem months later and write it down in my journal. I send it to friends sometimes. It's all a touch of randomness and serendipity.
Posted by: Christina Trevino. | June 23, 2010 at 03:16 PM
Christina, I'd like to see you give up on the idea of daily and just work in a journal to have fun, but it sounds like you've got a great solution for yourself—the scraps of paper. What comes out clearly here is that the randomness and serendipity really feed the poet in you and that's your process. So you're using a lot of everyday objects for your journal and I love it!
Do you put them in any sort of container? When I do unbound journals I tend to make a box or a little bag for them.
I have one friend who does what you describe and all of her pieces go into a special drawer in the kitchen for the year. At the end of each year she empties the drawer and saves all the bits (unsorted) in a box.
Posted by: Roz Stendahl | June 23, 2010 at 04:26 PM