A Backward Glance

I stayed up late last night reading through old journals after having a lovely impromptu reunion with a man I had met, and rescued so to speak, seven years prior on Las Ramblas. It got me to thinking of my past and the notion of personal history. I was interested in comparing my somewhat dim memories of that time with the reality as I experienced it. My journal was an excellent source document complete with ticket stubs, menus, candy wrappers and the leaf of a yellow rose gifted to me in gratitude. It told me of things and thoughts that occurred that would otherwise have been lost forever, but it also made me wonder about what had happened that I hadn't noticed, or deemed worthy of recording. As I read I wondered how much of my writing was true fact versus interpretation. I know that at the time I did not consider journal writing as a form of documentation, it was a space for exploration and discovery. Although I asked more questions than I took the time to answer, I was definately using it as a place to sort out my thoughts not simply transcribe them. What was most profound about reading through these scribblings was the realization that I have lost a lot of wonder over the years. I also find that I am less inspired now by art and my surroundings than I was when I kept journals. I'm glad I wrote so much and regret not keeping it up over the past few years. I have begun again, in a charming journal designed by Keri Smith entitled Wreck This Journal, and hope to re-inspire my sense of wonder and awe. My journal will still be a private, messy space for thinking things through and doodling. This blog, which I had decided to keep before my sudden burst of nostalgia and journal reading, will be neater, I hope, and, obviously, public. My goal here is to begin to be comfortable with the idea of publication and public response to my thoughts, interpretations of experiences, and phrasings.