My creative relationship with this journal was a bit uncomfortable as well. It never lent itself to writing so that aspect is completely absent. It certainly felt (both then + now) as though something were very much missing. Several of the pages are filled with abstract paint sketches that confuse me. They are emotionally charged and uncomfortable for me to look at, yet still sort of intriguing to my eye. I don't really understand where they came from. Maybe I'm not ready to accept where they came from? Or maybe they're just bad! Who knows? (But I am uncomfortable with them enough that for now they will remain in the journal unposted.) There were also some pages that I think came out really good, great and stellar! Strange things, perhaps I need to get farther from it to see it more clearly?
See more from this journal here.