I used to have a good habit of writing in my journal every single day, first thing, especially when I first started on my path to becoming an artist. It was something I learned about in a workshop hosted by Deborah Kruger in Amherst MA, and it was echoed in Julia Cameron's book "The Artist's Way".
(Unabashed promotion here...If you EVER have the chance to attend Deborah's workshop "Empowerment for Women in the Arts", run, don't walk, to sign up. She teaches across the country, so no excuse for not living on the east coast. You can write her at P.O. Box 230, Amherst, MA 01004 for information. She changed my life. I will write more about her workshop another day, but you have to trust me on this--she is ASTOUNDING at encouraging people to make art. And she does it all by LISTENING TO THEM say what they want, and then LISTENING TO THEM think of ways to accomplish that.)
Anyway, the point of a journal in Julia's book was to establish the habit, the discipline of setting aside time for yourself as an artist. At the very least, it's where you can simply unload all the useless crap you carry around in your brain so that it can't interfere with the rest of your day. Deborah's journaling is a place to write your affirmations--to commit to paper your dreams for yourself as an artist. She say, "I believe if you are told a million times, "You're ugly", you need to write "I'm beautiful" a million and one times, and then you can believe it."
So my journal started out as a place to write things like "blah, blah, blah, why am I doing this, I have nothing to say, only 3 more pages to go" and "I am an artist, I am an artist, I am an artist..." I wrote in those marbled black and white covered composition books, because I like how they would lay flat but you couldn't rip the pages out easily. I love narrow ruled versions, but rarely spring for the extra money they cost. I filled dozens, mostly with blithering idiocy and, more rarely, mind-blowing insights into what was going on in my head and heart.
Slowly, though, they became a crucial part of my artistic process. These journals, along with the generous and loving input from a few very special people over the years, have been the wellspring of everything successful and good about my business and artwork.
A year or so ago, for some reason the task of writing daily grew too ponderous, and I lapsed. I thought I didn't need that support anymore. It was faster to just get down to business every day, and not plow my way through writing three full pages every morning.
I felt the loss, though. I won't belabor the issue, just that it does really, truly help to have one place to unload all the heavy stuff in my heart, to slog my way through a problem or roadblock. Even if it's just to realize halfway through a sentence--"Hey, I could ask so-and-do!" Or to see a new way to look at the situaton. Or to recognize a pattern in something that was hanging me up. Or to see the part I play in that problem... I'm amazed how new ideas come to me after writing about them first. When I'm tangled in some project and can't figure out how to manage it, writing helps me see that THIS has to happen before THAT can happen, and proceed accordingly.
So I started journaling again a few weeks ago. I keep my daily schedule book close at hand, because as I write, I begin to see what my true priorities for the day should be. No matter how much or how little I accomplish that day, I know I at least got my thoughts in order and all marching in the same direction. There's just something about the process that lays the foundation for the rest of the day.
