On paper altars and journal keeping
And beginning to dream into the new year
I’ve been heartsore and rather unwell for the past few days, and didn’t think I had it in me to write this week. But the Five Things essay prompt that
shared on Day 1 of Essay Camp inspired me to put fingers to keyboard, so here we are. Don’t you just love it when you find inspiration when you need it the most?
I. November. Crisp winter mornings. Honeyed sunlight filtering through wooden blinds. A steaming mug of strong, black coffee, as I sit on the living room couch with my journal, pen, and some washi tape, spilling words across the page.
II. I see friends working on projects for the last 60-odd days of the year — a final hoorah before bidding adieu to 2023. And I? I dream of the creative projects that I want to invite in next year. November is when I start to heartstorm, to conjure up ideas and possibilities that slowly get sifted and sorted until I have a smorgasbord to choose from.
III. I’m chomping at the bit to get my planners for 2024. I never thought this day would come, because I’ve never been one for planning. My entire planning system is, in fact, a rebellion against the cult of productivity. And yet, I did manage to find the perfect planner for myself this year, a welcome change from the tedium of having to set up my own planner pages every month. For next year, I’ve decided to supplement my weekly planner with a small daily planner. I’m hoping that a daily planner format will support my thus-far failed attempts at life documentation. It’s also the perfect excuse to buy this leather traveler’s notebook cover that I’ve been coveting, but we’ll pretend this is more about life documentation and less about feeding my stationery addiction, mmkay?
Fill your mailbox with art and notes on the creative process!
IV. Speaking of a stationery addiction, though, I’ve also been collecting journaling kits, and while I tell myself I will use them in my junk journals, the truth is that I will not. What I am really attracted to is creative journaling — making pretty layouts with papers and stickers. But I don’t want to spend the bulk of my limited free time making pretty planner pages, and there is a part of me that doesn’t see the point of “wasting time” on creative journaling when I could be art journaling instead. So round and round and round I go. I am hoping to find a happy compromise next year; I’ll be sure to tell you how it goes!
V. And through it all, I’ve also been doomscrolling, jumping between the news, Threads {which has currently become my X/Twitter-replacement} and Instagram, staring in absolute horror at the news coming out from Palestine. When it gets too much, I find ways to move the grief out of my body and into my art journal — through layers of paint and words, finding and losing and finding images on the page. It feels like such an immense privilege, this ability to look away for some time, to find ways to process my grief, while there are millions for whom the last month has been a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape. I rage on the journal page, create paper altars for peace, and then go out and do what little I can: witness, amplify, donate.
Tell me 3 things that are going on in your world in the comments below, or simply reply to this email and let’s chat!
Your reflections on November and your creative processes are both beautiful and touching. Channelling your emotions and experiences into your journaling and creative pursuits is a great way to process grief. But it's true that not everyone has the privilege of stepping away from the relentless news cycle to cope with their emotions. Keep following your creative path and continue to find inspiration when you need it the most.
We are celebrating the day of the dead. Honoring friends and family who have crossed to the other side of reality.
Eating and getting together. Sort of our (very Mexican) thanksgiving