Forward is an inevitability, going back is by choice. This is not a journal. This is not a blog. This is not a sketchbook. It is a Time Machine. I believe this is true for all journal-esque endeavors. The flaw of pop-culture time machines is that they work in two directions (past and future) and they allow interaction and edits. In reality, a time machine can only visit what has happened and it is observer-only.
So, I realized, that it was a simple matter to make my own. It only requires imagination and time. The failure of an artist who works at his journaling is when he starts to make the work for someone else. That personal narrative becomes a personal detailed record of his life. Details long forgotten can be found in the pages of a sketch-journal that will spark memories and imaginings of tremendous depth.
What I'm not sure about is if this format translates for other people. A rabbit hole to another world may be readily identified by the artist who sweated as they dug, but for the casual passersby, it might only be visual noise in the landscape. But, I suppose, not having the answers is what makes it all the more interesting. Everything in life that is fun, enjoyable worth doing is an unknown adventure. Once a thing becomes wrote, it is work and no one wants to do it. Then, I'd say, regardless of wether another human can makes heads or tales of my 40 (to date) sketchbooks, I'll keep on recording so that I for one will have a time machine.
How is yours?
