Tuesday, September 28, 2010

This summer I took on the assignment of writing/designing a blank journal for a Write Around Portland fundraiser - because I believe in their mission, and also because I was interested in exploring the relationship between me and someone willing to spend up to 750 dollars for my journal.

Tell your truth, Mark Ritchie once told me. I tried for several months to talk directly and candidly with this person and wrote and wrote and wrote and it was all so BORING. The deadline passed and I had NOTHING but a bunch of self indulgent blah.

With negative three days to go and complete bewilderment, I thought about how stuck I was. I started writing short sentences to myself, things that have helped me get unstuck in the past.

No expectations, I wrote. Yes. No expectations. Wanting to do the most personal meaningful honest journal of all time was killing me.

No disappointments, I wrote. Yes. They come after expectations. Without expectations, you don’t have disappointments.

27 sentences later and I had written something of a meditation or poem on chilling out, a mantra for regaining flow.

I counted the pages in the book and it happened that I had the exact number of pages to write each sentence four times, a rhythm that felt right to me (and reminiscent of my high school punishment known as JUG, where delinquents were forced to write out a page of the school’s rules in long hand).

The journal is on display at Design Within Reach until Saturday, the evening of the auction.

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