The Journal Journey

In January of 1996, I walked into a grocery store in Shrewsbury, MA with my father and my sister. I was seventeen . I don’t recall where exactly the store was, why we where there, or what we bought while there, save one item. The first journal I ever owned. I remember walking down the aisle with the school supplies and glancing down at the notebooks lined up on display. I looked quickly over the spirals and spotted the familiar black and white marbled cover of PenTab... Read Full Story

Here I am again. Starting another empty volume. Sitting, drinking coffee. Wondering what will become of my life. - July 19, 2003 This post is part 2 in a series entitled Symbols of Redemption. For part 1, click here . For part 2, click here . On July 19, 2003, I began my eleventh journal with the words above. “Here I am again.” They were words of recognition… “Starting another empty volume.” … of repetition… “Sitting, drinking coffee.” … tied to a dream of being... Read Full Story

I have journals. Lots of them. Mostly in a pile on top of the bookcase in my office. Of course, you already know I have journals. I’m certain I’ve mentioned this before . But what you don’t know is that none of these journals are full. Except for one. But we’ll get to that. The rest of my journals have almost as many blank pages as full ones. Some are more empty than full. Many of them overlap in time, like my first journal (which has dated entries from January, 1996 to... Read Full Story

This post is part 2 in a series entitled Symbols of Redemption. For part 1, click here . Last week, in part one of this series , I talked about my many incomplete journals. I admitted that I’m pretty good about coming up with new ideas and starting new things, but that I often have trouble carrying those ideas to completion. Because this is so much a part of my personality, my journals became symbols of incompleteness beyond the blank pages themselves. They were symbols of brokenness... Read Full Story

One of the nice things about having twelve years worth of journals lying around is that I have a near-limitless reserve of material to post and make fun of when I have nothing better to blog. Today, I have nothing better to blog. Last night, I found myself once again thumbing through my first journal . I tend to keep an old journal or two close at hand because they serve as instant triggers for reminiscing. They are also incontrovertible proof that cocky kids grow up to be humble, kind... Read Full Story

We all love Moleskine® notebooks. The quality of the paper and cover, the simplicity of the design, and the feel in your hands. Now they have come out with great new colors in their New Moleskine Volant Collection in Blue, Green, Pink, and the standard Black.   I really welcome the new colors and appreciate the moods they can generate. They come in 3 different sizes and are packaged in sets of two shades: Lighter pink with darker pink, lighter green with darker green, lighter blue with... Read Full Story

I came across this book by accident while searching for a Christmas gift and being the mother of two free-spirited, exuberant girls, I immediately loved it. "Wreck This Journal" is not your ordinary journal at all. In fact, the pages prompt you to do things like run over it with your car, spill your coffee on it, drag it down the sidewalk, and take it into the shower with you. My daughter already saves the stickers from fruit and puts them on a special stool in her room so you can imagine my... Read Full Story

These are the things making me happy these days: The other day, I was walking in my neighborhood in search of a garage sale announced (very largely, I might add) at the mouth of my street. Halfway up the alleged garage sale street , a girl and her mom sat in their front yard. "Hi!" the girl said. "Hi," I said. I turned to her mom. "Do you know anything about a garage sale?" "Sorry. Haven't seen anything." The little girl ran up to me and gave me a delicate lavender... Read Full Story

When artist Gail Nadeau cared for her mother (who was descending into dementia), Gail kept a notebook. She drew and painted and wrote. She molded something from the experience even as the experience itself shaped her . She used the simple power of the notebook, to accept and process life's realities. Like Gail, I keep notebooks. I have a general one, for the miscellaneous pieces of my life. I have one just for my experience in the outdoor Secret Place . I have a purple prayer notebook that... Read Full Story

I started a new book last week! Writing the first few pages helped deteriorate the fear crippling me. I stalled and stalled knowing that what comes out on the page will never be what's in my head. It'll never be good enough. I have to write anyway. With that in mind, here's a peek into my life: That's the bulletin board over my desk (which my husband would argue was his desk confiscated by a foreigner). Notice the fairy crown on the left. Needed for inspiration, of course... Read Full Story