I love a good journal or sketchbook. I never remember a time in my life where I wasn't tempted to spend my allowance on a beautifully bound block of paper, even if I already had three or four hardly used ones at home. Along with that small obsession came the almost equal weight of not messing one up. I wanted each page in my precious journal to be perfect. No ugly sketches, no torn pages, and absolutely no crossing out/scribbling out words.
It was forbidden.
You can imagine the pressure. To have a journal and have every idea, every word, and every sketch pretty, proper, and put-together? I've recently (and I'm sad to say how recently) decided this way of approaching a journal and drawing in a sketchbook is horrible. Like the worst idea ever. What is a journal supposed to be used for if not ideas? And I don't know about you, but I can't churn out a poem, draw a moving figure, or sometimes complete a coherent thought perfectly in one sitting. I have a little hope that I'm not the only one who thinks like this, because this thought process of perfection scares many people away from the canvas, sewing machine, piano, etc.
Lately, I've been feeling more liberated. These are pictures of the sketchbook that I keep in my purse at all times. I used to never carry one with me, because I never had room for one. Then I realized it wasn't because I didn't have room for one, but that I didn't make room for one. This little journal/sketchbook has been a wonder since starting this blog, because I have a place to record ideas at a moment's notice, can sketch when I see something interesting, or write down inspiring quotes. And I've given my little notebook the ability, nay...the blessing, to be a mess. Nothing is really in order, though I do put dates down most of the time. Some drawings are good, some pieces of writing have potential (though definitely in a rough, rough state), and I cross through A LOT of words.
My younger self may be cringing, but I'm proud of this collection of rough ideas. This is a place to plan out my creative process rather than forget about things because of hand-sanitizer taking up room in my bag.
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