The Unwritten Page

I have always loved to write, and am told that I have a knack for telling stories. Somehow I have managed to collect about a dozen beautiful and vastly empty journals over the last nine years. For a while I posted many of my thoughts on a forum, and I can be very chatty via E-mail and Facebook. I also keep a sort of photo journal on my computer. There are at least forty years worth of photos there....I've completed one scrapbook in my life. I gave it to my sister on her 25th birthday.

I've even considered keeping an art journal. I just spend so much time devouring images of other artists that I hardly get any of my own work made.

Last night I realized that in one thick blue journal I wrote a handful of entries as a single woman in 2000, another just after meeting my husband, a couple of distraught ones while going through rough times in 2004, and then the entry I wrote last night. For a journal with about a 1000 pages, only about 50 have a word on them.

I find great appeal in an unwritten page. There is something alluring in the possibilities of the paper untouched by ink or pencil. I even kept crisp and (primarily) white the pages of two dozen miniature books that I handmade and sent as a holiday greetings this past December. It just seemed to make sense as one year ended and another began.

So now that I've realized that I seem to collect unwritten books, I've begun to compile ideas for creating them myself. I also like chiyogami, a wonderful type of Japanese paper. Perhaps keeping a blog will give me a reason to actually do something besides plan. We shall see.....