This is my journal. It’s part planner, part diary, part collector and curator of random disconnected thoughts. I write in it almost every day, refer to it for information continuously, and never leave it far behind as I move through the world. Admittedly, it’s become a babu, a touchstone, for me. The original version of this particular iteration began somewhere around 2016 when I discovered bullet journaling. For the uninitiated, a bullet journal looks and acts as a day planner but allows you to move through your day keeping notes, lists, thoughts, and ideas organized by using the next available page for each use. So notes during a meeting might be broken by a list of things to do after the meeting, continue after the list, and follow up pages later. The key is indexing everything copiously in the front of the book so nothing is ever lost. The result looks like a holy mess, but its structure is remarkably easy on the brain.
Bullet journals use blank books as their basis and have over the years become this thing of legend. There are online communities, podcasts, youtube videos illustrating how to use the journal, all form of homage- although in my opinion most of the time people really are just trying show off how cool their book is. Which is basically what I’m doing here. Anyhoo, they are completely individual, never the same twice, and over time truly highlight the evolution of thought that takes place in the life of the journal keeper.
My current book has three distinct sections- the journal, what I refer to as the “back of book” section where I keep ideas, thoughts, scribblings and brain dump stuff, and the “addendum of pertinent thoughts” which is the best parts of previous journals. When a book gets filled and a new journal is christened, the old book is archived- bound in tape and put in storage. But all the good stuff from that book is first excised, bound together and taped into the new book. That way I always have my best writing available whenever I need it.
Currently among the mishmash I have a treatise on synchronicity, musings on the role of science as the basis for much of Jewish law, an entire chapter/study guide from my exploration of cyanotype and salt printing, and a couple pages on what I call “The Problem with Barnett Newman” an exploration of the role of art during “…the moral crisis of a world in shambles…” All that stuff follows me from book to book, and will be accompanied with other appendices from this book when it fills.
But that’s the book, and I really wanted to talk about writing. My true journaling probably began in the early 2000’s when I purchased a copy of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. It’s a self-help book for working artists, and is as legendary in the arts community as the bullet journal is in journaling society. Part of the process it promotes is daily, automatic writing. You sit down with paper and pencil and write down whatever falls out of your brain. It’s entirely weird at first but becomes something important over time. I’ve been an automatic writer ever since. More often than not I have specific stuff that I write about, but not infrequently I write about writing.
When I have nothing that comes immediately to mind, I’ll write about how much I love writing in my journal. I have a great pen to write with, a Conklin Mark Twain Crescent-Fill fountain pen with a medium nib. And my ink of choice is Organics Studio’s “RW Emerson”- an indigo ink that develops a red oil sheen as it dries. It’s the only ink I’ve used for several years now. The company is no longer in business (I think it was actually just a guy working out of his house) but I found enough NOS to keep my pen filled for a while. So when I write about writing I can write about how much I love my pen, the way it feels on the paper, the way the ink sheens as it dries. Stuff like that. In the moment it’s pointless but later it becomes more pointed. The point of the whole thing being that by dumping all my thoughts into my journal without rolling them all around I don’t have them cluttering up my head, so I’m free to wonder about where I left my car keys or if I ate lunch yet.
For me, writing is about moving forward while keeping a finger on the past. It’s about positing, and postulation about why things are the way they are, and creating memory by recording history.
I’d love to know your stories about journaling or writing in general. This could be the start of a great conversation.