June 2009 | Chapitre Cinq

In my mind, there are 2 major problems with keeping a diary. First, it’s hard to write well because it ends up being simply emotions spilling forth onto the page in no coherent order. Second, I can never keep up with writing in them with any regularity, as can be proven by the frequency of this blog. However, an art journal is a distinctly different beast because its intention is to strike while the emotions are hot. It is not the clinical cataloging of the days’ events.

I wonder, though, whether all this scrapbooking and blogging and journaling we’ve become addicted to in our culture is a byproduct of boredom or just another avenue of creative expression. The optimist in me thinks these are all interesting pastimes that allow a somewhat non-creative person to be able to tap into their inner artist or writer. This is an excellent thing because it brings art to the masses and makes it accessible to more people than those who have studied it in higher education. In fact, you could be illiterate and put together a scrapbook. You could be colorblind and write a blog. You could be utterly stupid and make a powerful journal. These are all fantastic things.

But this brings me back to my previous concern. Who are the people who have the time to write a blog or keep an intricate scrapbook or journal? Are they people who work a 9-5 and bring home no thoughts or lingering issues from work and therefore have from 5pm to 6am free to do whatever? Are they people who are trying to escape dealing with their kids? Are they people who get addicted and edge out all other things? Just questions I ponder.