Squiggle & Heart No. 35
Maybe image-wise this makes no sense to anyone, but I often think about journaling - by hand specifically - to be a synthesis of my heart and my head. I often think about something moving from both areas of my body, through my arm and onto the page, in a way that doesn’t feel resonant when I type.
I’ve been thinking a lot about journaling recently, as I am in the process of reorganizing my office closet, trying to figure out what the hell to do with 35 years worth of little books (for perspective: the first entry I have in my possession is dated 6/9/89). Skimming through these old selves can be both hilarious and excruciating, watching patterns re-emerge, sometimes resolving over time, sometimes not. But it feels important not to destroy them no matter how painful rereading some of the accounts may be. At least not yet. They represent 35 years of hearts and minds - all separate entities, ever changing, and yet somehow connected - grappling with just how difficult it is to be a human.
I hope you journal, too. and if not, I hope you consider starting.
It makes sense to me. I have one other link in my version which is hard to visualize because it's the unconscious. Sometimes I see it surrounding me, sometimes as the bottom of a lake, sometimes as the universe or the quantum field.