Illustrated Journals

Keeping an ongoing diary has never made sense to me because you can’t access a past entry unless you remember when you made it. Instead, for decades I have made “journal entries” on scraps of paper – yes, even restaurant napkins and the backs of envelopes – and filed them in a series of folders marked with titles such as Journal of Dreams, Journal of The Heart, Journal of Family. In the folders I collect words and ideas I want to remember, from clever phrases I overhear in public to words of wisdom from my elders. One scrap recalls my ancestor grandmothers telling me in a dream, “We like to write. We just need you to hold the pen.”  Who am I not to obey?

At this point I have sixteen filing categories. Some of the folders are so fat I should subdivide them. And yes, I do access these from time to time, quickly finding what I seek by category, not date.

Shortly before the turn of our present 21st century I started keeping an illustrated travel journal in small-format watercolor notebooks. These are by date, but are very sporadic. On a trip, I often paint or draw while my husband goes for a hike too hefty for me.  Or I sketch while waiting in an airport or a concert hall. The ideal situation is to travel with my artist daughter, Tamara, who does this too on a much bigger scale.

My format is so small – usually paper about six inches square, occasionally twice as wide – that it accommodates only spare text. The gift of that space restriction is that I must crystallize my thoughts about a scene into just a sentence or two.

The act of drawing or painting in this format requires me be quiet, calm and attentive in a way that is good for the soul. Brushing color on paper puts me in a mental position to extend the experience with a few careful words.

I return to these illustrated journals quite often, and when I do the art and writing together rekindle the original experience in a deep and sensory way that eludes either art or words alone.

The illustrated journals depict places from New Zealand to Scotland, California to Maine. And they are heavy on my beloved homeland, Hawai’i.

This page includes selections from various journals. Click on any thumbnail version to see the painting in its full dimension.