Wednesday, October 16, 2013

because it works for me.

the gathering, the sorting, the gluing, the secret messages,
the "working it out on the page"
the documenting, the processing, the sorting of emotions.
i can speak through a page. to myself. to others.
to the future, to the past. 
there is healing here for me;
 a place where i make friends with myself.
with my lovely and not so lovely parts.
a spot to try on different beliefs and thoughts,
dreams and ideas
and not hear the voices of disapproval
 that still sometimes ring loud in my ears.
i become my own cheerleader and advocate
reminding myself of so much
that sometimes i just can't see.



1 comment:

  1. I always enjoy seeing these little snippets of your journals. The are fascinating and foreign...not a method of emotional sorting that comes naturally to me. Years ago, when I was working through a time of depression, I tried for a few weeks to build a scrapbook journal myself. The process was enjoyable and interesting, and the specific creativity involved was far better for me than the times I tried to write things out somehow in words - but, ultimately, I found it too exhausting and time-consuming. And the visual melodrama irritated me afterwards almost as badly as the wordy melodrama had in my regular journal. Clearly, I'm not cut out for a diarist OR an artist! Or a poet, either, but that's another story.