I have a lot of journals. I love them. Put me in front of a Moleskin display and I become almost giddy. To be honest, my love extends beyond journals; I find photo books and albums irresistible, too. What I love about them is being able to hold possibility in my hands. What journey? What experience? What emotion will be recorded or told in or on these pages
I think journals and albums remind us that we are real, that we’re here, now. We have experienced or felt something and we don’t want to forget it. Furthermore, we want to share it with someone, even if that someone is solely our self at a future date. We want the feelings and ideas we are having and feeling now to time travel. They end up having telltale characteristics that make them recognizable as ours, our handwriting or a memento specific to our experience. Journals and albums offer a glimpse into where we were then.
When and why isn’t memory enough? What events and thoughts warrant a tangible record for you?
I work with an artisan who handcrafts exquisite albums and books that I offer to my wedding and event clients. The album is much like a gift. It’s enveloped in a velveteen bag and nestled in a wood and leather box. I imagine the ritual of a bride and groom on their first, second or thirtieth wedding anniversary unwrapping their album together, maybe even with their children or grandchildren. The couples’ fingers running over the embossed initials, their palm rubbing over the leather cover, and, as they turn the thick, gilded pages, tears welling up in their eyes.