Apr 26, 2015

2400 Pages - April 25th for 13 Years ~




Collection of 12 Journal Notebooks 


I never wrote the journals thinking that one day 29 years later I would be interested, curious and compelled to read them. 

I never wrote the journals thinking that they would accompany my life in Barstow, Redlands, Northridge, San Diego, Vista, and now Atlanta.  

The 12 journal notebooks, these simple spiral bound collection of pages have been foot soldiers in my life from April 25th, 1973 to November 17th, 1986.  

The yellowed pages, some 2400 blank opportunities. Overtime they were  filled, painted, scribbled, written and decorated with 4000+ days of Elena, almost 23% of my life today. 

I am going to read these journals in a few weeks. 

Why now, why the curiosity, why the assignment to read and revisit the days, the events, the ideas, the perspectives, the emotions, the prayers, the wishes and dreams? I am curious.  

I am curious for many reasons. 

I'm interested in how the person I was in 1973, 74, 75, and on and on through 1986…… how did that teenager and then young adult grow, develop and mature and evolve to who I am today. 

Will I remember and recognize the author of those pages so long ago?   
Will I learn anything ?  Will I recognize the pattern of a voice, a theme, a particular cadence of thoughts, ideas and emotions ?  

Will there be a wonderful passage or two that I'll want to share ? 

Will the memories be accurate or will I learn that human nature overtime adjusts the reality of the past by distance, by time, and by what our truth or lack of truth is as we step into every day of our future lives. 

I am going to read these journals in a few weeks. 

I'll be house sitting and will have the opportunity to read, read and read. I will be near the ocean, the days will be sunny and quiet, I look forward to the discovery. 

At some point the pages will be recycled. 

Most likely that will happen sometime soon.  I want the opportunity to have a cappuccino or a lemonade or a cold cold blonde beer and revisit the part of me that was compelled everyday for 4000+ days of my life to write, write, write. 

What compelled the visit to these blank pages ?

Why the need to keep the daily appointment with pen and paper ? 

What solace did I seek ? 

Why the need to record, the need to express ? 

I think I know some of the answers, at the same time, I am curious to validate and learn from reading all the entries. 

And reading the journals now, may be just that - a focused, temporary meeting with the past. A meeting that will allow me to recycle the pages with comfort.  

I will move the notebooks along to the recycle collection, knowing that a future awaits them, knowing that perhaps components of the recycled material will  become part of a blank piece of paper for someone to create, discover, communicate, celebrate, paint and record. 

And I will be OK with that.