Journals

I’ve been writing a journal each day far longer than I’ve been blogging. My journals go back to June 1997; this blog was started in November 2007. 

I’ve never changed the look of the blog. It looks today pretty much just as it did when I started. The blog roll changes, and I’ve added a few widgets, but that’s it. The journals, however, have run the gamut. 

I started with a tiny one I bought in Yosemite. I wrote in some fancy ones over the years for which I paid hefty prices. For a few years I settled on a very large size that was designed for sketching.  I must have two dozen of those. The size made me feel expansive. 

The last five months of writing has taken a peculiar twist. The journals I’ve used are composition books I get at Target for 50 cents each. 


Much smaller, with far fewer pages, and certainly not high quality paper, but fun because I can decorate them:


I use Washi tape, stickers, printed pictures, colored paper. Each one is different. I fill one in about 2 months so I keep a supply of blank ones on hand and see where my creativity leads. For how long, I don’t know. 

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8 responses to “Journals

  1. They’re beautifully decorated, and wow, that’s a long time, you are a natural journaller, it does lend itself to blogging.

  2. It’s lovely to see your creativity flow out, Delaine. I love to see all of it. 🙂

  3. What a great outlet for your creativity.

  4. You have an artistic flair. I have kept journals also, but mine mostly have dull covers.

  5. Congratulations on keeping such nice journals. It’s a great hobby, too.

  6. As early as pre-teens, I began keeping journals, with plans to be the Great American Writer. My journals were brutally honest as to experiences, thoughts, etc. After marriage, children, divorce something came over me one day and I thought “If something happened to me, my mother would read these”, so I meticulously destroyed each and every one. Have I regretted it since? Yes, but I was a different person when those were written and probably would not even recognize it was once me.

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