The other day I met my friend Sharon at San Francisco’s Modern Museum of Art to see the 1000 Journals Project. In 2000, an anonymous SF-based artist began leaving blank journals around the city, each with a message inviting participants to draw, paste, rip, or write on its pages, and then pass it on when finished. Some of the completed books have made their way back to him, and he’s displayed the results on a website, as a book, in a documentary film, and now a museum exhibit. At the exhibition are several actual journals viewers can page through, as well as reproductions of many spreads. There’s also a table covered with pens, crayons, markers, scissors and magazines, where visitors can contribute to several on-going journals.
Last year I started a journal with the idea of making a collage a day. I kept at it a few months, although not every day. It never got easier — I hoped that I’d find them relaxing to make, but I often wasn’t able to find time in the day and constructing them seemed too much like a chore. Sharon suggested I try again, and even bought cheap blank books for both of us to use. One of her ideas is to incorporate found objects, using the found thing as a jumping off point for the collage.
What did I think of the exhibition? Looking at the pages I was struck by how messy they seemed to me and how all my own work is tidy and mostly on grids (or a least lined up) and so much more constrained and you might even say uptight. Maybe that’s why I give up on paper journals but surprise myself by continuing to blog. The blog/journal entries are neat and orderly and that all important constrained thing — which suits my temperament.
Most people’s first (and maybe only) encounter with folding origami is the crane. Here’s an edible variation from this blog, courtesy of my friend Laura:
