Journey of Journaling

My first attempt at keeping journals was unsuccessful. You get these ideas from people that things must be done a certain way. You say, “Dear Diary”, keep a record of events and thoughts, and write daily. You start on page one, you always write the date, and for the most part, you write.

When I was in high school, I was given another set of ideas behind journaling. Instead of a book of lined paper I was given a book of acid free, white paper that was as great for drawing, writing, or pressing fall leaves. I was told to fill it up with whatever.

The art teacher showed us his. Some pages were writing, some doodles, some serious sketches, and some contained nothing but a business card and some notes. There were saved napkins, random thoughts, lists, and newspaper clippings. He explained that a journal was for all kinds of things. It was there to help us record whatever and it didn’t matter what it was as long as you filled it.

Other journals I would start and write a few dated entires, not write for awhile, begin the next with an apology and a new commitment. Maybe I’d get to page ten.

The first book I filled was still from page one, but I filled it to the end with writing, drawing, painting, collages, clippings, thoughts, doodles, ticket stubs, and anything else.

These days I’ve found that I loathe page one. The pressure of beginning and end doesn’t lend itself to capturing a moment, or any space of real time. You can’t chronical it all in a time line, because when it’s happening we’re out there living it. To try to relive the exact thing on a page is tedious, boring, pointless, and really impossible. Instead I collect bits, reflect, and reassemble. It wasn’t before long that I started keeping a collection of paperish stuff. It didn’t matter if I didn’t have the time to say “Dear Diary” every day. When I went to a concert, I would keep the ticket stub. When I made an elaborate doodle on a post-it, I kept it. Ever wonder what to do with the cards you get, the packaging that seems too pretty to throw out, or the best fortunes you get from cookies? What about the posters that are too ragged for the wall or the wonderful color you saw in the hardware store and you grabbed a swatch of it?


Who ever said that they needed to go into the book the same day?

Years later, my first few folders are now a large leather case and a small plastic box. The big case has full pages and stuff I just haven’t looked at. When I am journaling, I can grab something from the case to put in. I usually cut it up and collage it. The small box is for the little pieces that are left, but I don’t want to throw away. That bit of gold paper might work on another page.

I befriended glue sticks and scissors, magic markers and pens, a utility knife, a glue gun, and colored pencils. I don’t like to be idle while watching TV or a movie or listening to music. I might be giving the book my full attention or just my subconscious.

I have more than one book going at the same time. I add to old pages as often as I start new ones. A bit from 1998 might be on the same page as 2008. I care more about the order of composition than the order of time. It’s how real life works anyways. In a weeks time you won’t remember the exact order of everything you did last week. It doesn’t matter either because you today are parts of your past, but not in any kind of time order. The events from 1998 sit beside those of 2008 in how they’ve shaped you. If that makes sense, they can make sense on a page next to each other.

Why do we try to make a strait line when a journey has twists and turns?

Fusion

I’m supposed to understand your feigned confusion
at why I’ve moved on to try to find fusion,
find something that I thought we had until you ended.
I should stay solitary for you, ripped, raw, rendered.
I should let you play victim and pretend to play the victor.
My prize is that I lose you all over again, this time as a friend.
My reward is an uncertain something with a someone that could end.

Things I Learned Yesterday


Sometimes I think in the style of Carl Franklin who does a bit on Mondays called “Things I have learned this week.” Some days I don’t need to make a thing up for any comedic reason, as life just sometimes manages to be way more unbelievable than anything I’d dare to make up.

These days are far more educational than I expected.

Since yesterday I have learned…

In the sovereign nation known as Rhode Island there are two acceptable spellings for the word train that have two distinct definitions. I learned this at the Amtrak station waiting for my train as I watched red, digital lettering scroll by…

“All trains are running on or near schedule…”

This, as a Massachusetts native spelling and meaning I am familiar with.

“…please do not enter or exit any moving trians.”

I watched this about twelve times wishing my camera wasn’t packed securely away as it was the sort of failblog submission that would make it to a post.

But I don’t want to be racist in saying that it’s a fail to have culture where trians is an acceptable spelling of train. In Rhode Island culture, when one refers to the act of jumping out of one, you spell it trian. It’s a cultural distinction, since in Rhode Island they have a jumping out of and entering moving trains issue that plagues their population.


I have learned…

The best way to advertise a maker of cell phones and other electronics in New York City is to wear large, black afros even if, especially if, one is a young Caucasian female. Add blue long coats to the ensemble and that just makes me want to buy their technology so much it hurts.

I thought this was weird until I looked online and learned that this is similar to an event last year where they dressed people in blue hair and white button down coats. This is a tried and true technique of advertising apparently, and I guess its working because I’m blogging about it. Now, what product were they advertising exactly?

I have learned…

Don’t stand so close to the grates in New York city or you will be forced to ask the question: “Oh, dear god, what is that SMELL!?” and prey that you never actually get an answer.

I have learned…


That some guy in Brooklyn was way too busy playing with Jills boobs to notice. I’ve heard some funny things walking by people while they’re talking, but this is the first time I’ve been so educated.

There are all kinds of information we learn from this statement:

1. Jill has some amazing super power boobs that can completely hypnotize men. The alternative to this is that this guy has an inability to do things like walk and chew gum, it’s a wonder he remembered to breathe with her boobs present.

2. Something worthwhile was to be noticed. It was worth while and amazing enough that this friend must have been “What!? OMG!! Didn’t you notice…?” even though he was obviously having a great time with Jill nearby. What this worthwhile event was, we can only imagine, but we know it was big, and that friend thought it was bigger than Jill’s boobs.

3. Jill probably didn’t let him play with his boobs. Let’s face it, if he’s the kind of guy to make a statement like that, this guy also may be the type to use hyperbole to make a point, or maybe even stretch the truth. While this is something I have not learned for certain, I greatly suspect that the truth may have been something like “Too busy mentally playing with her boobs from across the room when she wasn’t looking”.


I have learned…

The end of the universe is in New York City, specificly near Times Square in Manhattan. Not only is there a Starbucks across from a Starbucks, there are many Starbucks across from Starbucks. I bet if you mapped the Starbucks, they would make a significant shape of some kind that would tell us more about the order and nature of the universe we live in.

So I googled it. Here is what I learned: In Times Square, there’s one Starbucks for every .04 square miles. There are SIXTY-TWO Starbucks in the Times Square area… I’m talking easy walking distance from each other. They don’t want you to discover the mystery of the pattern so they only will put up to nine on the map at one time.

They’re tricky like that.

And that is what I learned yesterday.