I never owned a diary. As a young girl, given the choice between a shiny diary with the miniature lock and accompanying key or a pack of freshly sharpened drawing pencils, I would take the pencils. I loved to doodle. This trait followed me through elementary school into junior high, where I had the opportunity to take Art as an elective. Then, in high school, Art was pushed aside by higher elective pursuits, you know, like AP German. But the doodling remained. I doodled on the notes I took in class, on the corners of tests, on cards I made for friends. It always seemed that when words would fail me, images did not.
In college, during a particularly rough patch, I stumbled upon the breathtaking work of Sabrina Ward Harrison. I remember literally losing my breath as I traveled through the pages of her visual journals. They were swirls of images, words, quotes, thoughts, lists, mementos. Loud and clear, the pages communicated that the documentation of life did not have to happen daily and begin with "Dear Diary." I felt like I had been given permission to create my own rules to what and how I treasured my individual experiences. That day, I went out and bought my very first journal.
In this new year, seek the novel in the familiar; be amazed by it and take the time to record it. Capture it all. As Anais Nin puts it best, "It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see." Consider creating a tangible documentation of the day-in-day-out happenings, thoughts, emotions, decisions. Tuck away ticket stubs and receipts. Tape in pictures. Color, draw, paint. Collage. Write. Include inspirational quotes and newspaper clippings. Whatever and however.
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