Behind the pages – A year in journals {2010}

“All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

2010 was a year of journal experiments filled with new artistic ways and explorations. 2010 brought:

* everything all in one book {mostly because I was losing things and having trouble w/ the upkeep of multiple journals.}

* different kinds of paper/journals {my favorite was the Exacompta}

* new places to journal {the bookstore becoming my favorite studio-away-from-home and the basement becoming my new place to spread out.}

* classes {I started teaching again – just a couple of workshops + some creative coaching. <3 it, but I’m moving slowly… }

* more pages & less photos {here lately they’re combining more & more.} like this:

I have a songwriting friend who periodically goes back through his journals to “mine for treasures” in the pages. When he shared his process at our latest songwriting circle, I realized that I don’t often go back and look at my pages. So, I’m spending the next few days with my 2010 journals & a camera. In the meantime here are a few page photos that made it to flickr.

Enjoy.

2010 Journals

{top to bottom}

hand.book square {April – June}

Exacompta Sketchbook {Jan-April}

Picadilly unlined {to answer questions in The Artist’s Way}

handmade from Baghy’s Journals – a Mother’s Day present {June-August}

handmade file folder travel journal {July}

Picadilly Large graph {x3 used for morning pages}

Canson Mixed Media {August-Nov}

handmade file folder Christmas journal {Dec 1-31}

By Betsy|2016-10-19T14:20:38+00:00January 6th, 2011|Behind the Pages, Journals|3 Comments

About the Author: Betsy

I create containers for words and paint and I fill them. I craft safe, sacred spaces for people to wrestle, create, heal and shout from the mountain tops. And I teach people to do all of these things for themselves.

9 hours ago by wildthyme Monday 24 September 2018 32/100 . . “Writing is a form of movement” Cynthia Lee @restoried .explorations . . I don’t believe in balance. . . I believe in the ocean and her tides. I believe in the moon and her cycles, and in trees and the way they embrace the seasons. Trying to balance out my life is like trying to smooth out the ocean. An impossibility. Best learn to surf. . . Lately, my minutes have been like waves in hurricane. Rushing in and out w wind and horizontal rain, sending all of my practices flying through the air.
1 week ago by wildthyme Friday 14 September 2018 31/100 . . Timing is everything and so is asking. . . I’m currently mixing up a batch of the medicine that I need. Self care is the main ingredient. Because caring for your self is the only way to sustainably offer care. Here’s my current self care formula: . . * listening to Fierce Conversations by Susan Scott. Again. * asking for help when I need it. * sleeping enough - which is a big deal because I’m always tempted to skip sleep when I’m in the press. * low carbs/high veggies/lean protein & lots
2 weeks ago by wildthyme Wednesday 12 September 2018 30/100 room with a view . . Today’s prayers from the high ground come from a hospital room on the 11th floor in the wee hours of the morning. All is well. We’re in the liminal space between why does this hurt and what are we going to do? Mom of course is the epitome of strength and elegance as she pain manages and undergoes all the tests and poking and prodding. . . Today I am amazed by offerings of small kindnesses and by how the body communicates. Both speak to the thin webs and
2 weeks ago by wildthyme Tuesday 11 Sept 2018 29/100 the ministry of poetry and fog Am back to morning hikes, poetry and prayers from the high ground. DM me if you have a consolation (or a desolation) I would be honored to hold space for you. My practice is to name the concern/person, hold it, breathe with it, then bless and release all to move us toward grace and the divine.
2 weeks ago by wildthyme Sunday 9 September 2018 28/100 stories and owls I am a book I am a tree I am a butterfly I am a seed I am a bird who longs to fly . . "I hold stories and owls. I dissolve into wings. I require land and truth and wildflowers and sky. And visits to the sea. I seek the artifacts of belonging. Of knowing where I’ve come from and of all the possible paths found in my cells, roots and wings.” . . I don’t always understand the words that pour onto the pages at first exposure, but I
1 month ago by wildthyme Saturday 25 August 2018 27/100 notice . . Life is demanding and my hands are full of starts and partway theres. All creative projects have this phase of mess as the tide moves in and out between chaos and order. Like clearing out a closet, the pieces are laid out and not yet the new thing that they will become. This is when it’s tempting to leave my body and “just push through” and git ‘er done. This is also the time when I need trust and prayers and deep listening. When I most need to embody the divinely-infused desires
1 month ago by wildthyme Thursday 16 August 2018 26/100 be still Prayers from the high ground this morning carry special love and focus for dear friends. Holding space and offering reminders. . . Be still and know that I'm with you Be still and know that I am here Be still and know that I'm with you Be still, be still, and know When darkness comes upon you And colors you with fear and shame Be still and know that I'm with you And I will say your name If terror falls upon your bed And sleep no longer comes Remember all the words
1 month ago by wildthyme Wednesday 15 August 2018 25/100 everything is waiting for you This morning’s prayer from the high ground: Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots have left their arrogant aloofness and seen the good in you at last. All the birds and creatures of the world are unutterably themselves. Everything is waiting for you. David Whyte from Everything is Waiting for You ©2003 Many Rivers Press -- David Whyte
1 month ago by wildthyme Tuesday 14 August 2018 24/100 reminders Sometimes I forget the sound of my own voice. Service and performance can create a cacophony that makes it hard to hear. This poem is a North Star. . . One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice– though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my life!” each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at
2 months ago by wildthyme Saturday 4 August 2018 23/100 body wisdom . . There’s magic in our bones, A north star in our soul That remembers our way home. God, it’s easy to forget There’s magic in all of this. “Body” by Sleeping At Last . . The garden is full of flox, zinnias, purple basil and mint that wants to take over the world. I’ve had my hands in the earth and have spent a fair amount of time painting and bird watching - all ways that I listen and refresh my soul. There is bounty in the garden even if my creative
2 months ago by wildthyme 15 July 2018 22/100 marks . . The ministry of mark making. There’s something magical and powerful about making my own marks. I love filling pages with marks that are 100% my own. Perhaps, it’s because for a long time I had a huge investment in what I was supposed to be doing/making/creating and these primal scribbles return me to an iteration of myself that was unapologetic. . . I have pages and pages of marks. I also have tens of thousands of hours invested in copying. In forcing my hand into the constraints of photo realistic drawings and calligraphy
2 months ago by wildthyme 12 July 2018 21/100 yellow . “I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way - things I had no words for.” ~ Georgia O’Keefe . . Sometimes a color captures my attention from the inside out. It’s not just something that catches my eye, rather something that whispers [maybe shouts] to my soul and gives me a message or points me in the right direction. . . Right now, it’s the color yellow. Logic says that it’s because it’s the most visible color on the spectrum. Also, it’s summer; there’s yellow
3 months ago by wildthyme 10 July 2018 20/100 “Move the line” is a mantra that I learned from the prolific @ardithgoodwin It’s such a favorite. I may not have words or clarity, but I can for sure show up to a page and move the line. I also love magazine text and synchronicity. Today these words fluttered from an envelope. Seriously, fell right on to the page like a kiss plus a high five from the universe for showing up to the pages and for getting my happy ass out the door to walk this morning. @aileenreilly I’m closing those rings like a boss.
3 months ago by wildthyme 12 June 2018 19/100 hope I’ve come to believe that hope comes in different flavors. There's put-your-eyes-on-the-goal hope and a chin-up-exhortation hope and a state-your-desire hope. All are wonderful and needed. However, there’s this one flavor of hope that I particularly love. It’s rich and real and a little bitter like coffee ice cream made out of heavy cream and too much espresso. tbh, it’s a little too much for a lot of people. . . This is the hope that survivors have because we’ve lived through a devastation. I copied over these words from @beccastevens . My journal is where
4 months ago by wildthyme Friday 8 June 2018 18/100 broken "I'm not going anywhere. I hope. It's been an adventure. We took some casualties over the years. Things got broken. Things got lost. But I wouldn't have missed it for the world.” ~Anthony Bourdain I have a collection of beautiful broken dishes from the last 25 years of our life together as a family. Pieces too precious to throw away. I loved the dishes whole and I see their beauty broken. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with this collection, but this I know. . . * Devastation isn’t permanent...just devastating. *
4 months ago by wildthyme Wednesday 6 June 2018 17/100 moments . . Something I’ve learned being behind the camera is that there are some shots that you have to take when you see them. It can be the same with tears and opportunities and risky words. The moment will evaporate. The light will change. Like the fluttering of fairy wings, the magic is there and then it’s not. . . I walked past the back door last night and saw Luke outside smoking. I had a hundred things to do, but the light was shiny without being gaudy like it can be and I
4 months ago by wildthyme Saturday 2 June 2018 16/100 A storm blew through the neighborhood yesterday. A real one with high winds, hail and fallen trees. . . I ended up reading by candlelight and writing by hand. Then we had wine and cheese for dinner. Although that had nothing to do with lack of electricity, that’s just Friday night at our house. . . We’re still without power and I’m thinking about how storms - the ones with rain and the ones with heartbreak- cause shift. How one minute you can have a plan in place and within minutes all projects and priorities
4 months ago by wildthyme Thursday 31 May 2018 15/100 wolf . . I’m not gonna lie, May has been a tough month, with a lot of extra energy going toward a couple of situations in the Urgent category. I’ve learned that means that I have to hit the basics. Water. Movement. The most important tasks. Figuring out which tasks are the most important tasks. . . My friend Ashley asked what we did before we walked around with cameras. It was a great reminder that I used to draw ALL the time. It feels like a solid, rooted move to finish up the 100
4 months ago by wildthyme Saturday 26 May 2018 14/100 light . . Sometimes the circle of life sucker punches you. Last weekend, our Ella pup stopped eating. Six days later we said goodbye. We were able to wait for The Girl to come home in the strange sort of mixed-blessing-cocktail that these events hand you. The house is strangely quiet. We’ve never been in this house without a pet. The chi is dramatically different and we’ve decided to stay here in the quiet for a season. . . Also, I love these pictures of The Girl and her puppy in the window light at
4 months ago by wildthyme 24 May 2018 13/100 reaching for . . Some days are composed of strangely disparate elements, like the mystery basket on a cooking show. What am I going to make with a rumbly thunderstorm, a v sick puppy and an exciting brainstorm session? I’m reaching for presence and grace as I climb uphill and weave all of these pieces together. . . Today’s list: * gumption * forward motion * blue sky * gray sky * Ella

Monday 24 September 2018 32/100 . . “Writing is a form of movement” Cynthia Lee restoried.explorations . . I don’t… twitter.com/i/web/status/1…
5 hours ago
Friday 14 September 2018 31/100 . . Timing is everything and so is asking. . . I’m currently mixing up a batch of… twitter.com/i/web/status/1…
1 week ago
Wednesday 12 September 2018 30/100 room with a view . . Today’s prayers from the high ground come from a hospital… twitter.com/i/web/status/1…
2 weeks ago

Behind the pages – A year in journals {2010}

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About the Author: Betsy