Trying to teach myself new things. I’m learning that paper crafting is enjoyable and relaxing for me. What I will do with it in the long term remains to be seen. Right now I’m watching YouTube videos and learning different concepts and techniques. Those ideas wash through my head and acquire my influences. It’s a work in progress.
I suppose the truest form of a junk journal is the intent to create an original and handmade journal using mostly “throwaway” items. Think recyclables. Since there are no hard and fast rules to junk journaling, one is unlimited in scope. And they may be created to serve a variety of purposes: artistic, memoir, travel, tribute, etc.
Some people like to write in their journals, but, again, there are no hard and fast rules. There are journals featuring lined paper and there are journals that include small spaces for writing. Any spot is fair game for writing. And there are as many junk journal styles as there are individuals making them.
How did I become interested in this? I’ve never considered myself to be artistically inclined. As a left-handed individual, I’ve experienced loads of problems when wielding tools of any type. This includes scissors which can be an integral part of junk journaling. Today’s technology features scissors that may be used by all folks and are not defined by which hand is used to cut.
Most of my life was spent in avoidance of art activities due to my inability to use scissors effectively. I convinced myself that I had no artistic inclinations. Now, in my older and wiser stage of life, I know I was wrong. I was a coward and didn’t want to “fail.” At this stage of life, I’ve decided failing is no longer an excuse. It’s not a damn competition. It’s about enjoyment and enrichment.
What piqued my interest in this particular craft was the firm idea that there are no rules. One may junk journal as one wishes. That took away the concept of failure. I’ve long been a proponent of writing as a method to ease one’s internal pain. Or to express joy found in everyday things. Or to tell a story. Writing is soothing, though one may wade through some turbulent waters in order to arrive at the optimal cool pool of water. And that’s the point. Not all pleasures arrive without some work involved.
Why did I begin? Honestly, I was embroiled in a grief process. A few years ago, I lost someone very important to me. It was difficult for me to grieve his loss because I think I felt by grieving I was letting him go and he would truly be gone forever. Making his journal was transformative for me. I learned a great deal more about myself and about our relationship. And I did it my way, a far more meaningful process.
Sorry for the truly amateur video. Another subject where I need to learn a great deal. But you get the idea. Practicing my new hobby has temporarily put my fiction writing on hold. I’ve been rethinking my original plot lines and feeling stale. I may have to begin anew. I just don’t know. I will think about it as I continue to experiment with journal making.
Stories Are For Eternity 