February has begun; my January was spent journaling photographs spanning over twenty years. I have had a hard time thinking about anything else. The process of organizing our life events has helped me create a personal narrative through storytelling.
The process of this photographic journaling triggered ideas I had forgotten, which were necessary to move forward. It has given me time-captured photos of artwork processes, writing goals, and construction projects. The changes we made, the places we have lived, and the people who were a huge part of our lives along the way. Adventures, pets, and family members who are no longer with us. New timelines for our children and grandchildren.
Like most of us, I have had self-expectations that don’t go as hoped, but when I look back at the achievements or finished projects, I chuckle and say to myself, “I guess that wasn’t so bad after all.”
The need to maintain a chronological record of events, efforts, failures, and accomplishments keeps me accountable to the ‘purposefulness’ of life, so when I lose track, I sense it.
Ancient history shows that humankind has preserved sacred storytelling to teach and pass along. Our humanness is a heritage of storytelling. It is fascinating to realize how powerful the act of telling stories is, from the painted walls of prehistoric hunts to the carved Egyptian hieroglyphs to the oral narratives passed down through generations. People have channeled their stories into diaries, paintings, drawings, and photographic journals, which become a linear timeline from youth to old age, with milestones and memories, and embrace their journey chronologically.
Fortunately, I saved most of my small calendars, with daily tasks written down, to help me document the what and when. Daily notes exhausted me, reading the number of activities and responsibilities! We can never overlook the everyday, the ordinary, or mundane, because there is an extraordinary sense to them.
I do not have fancy scrapbooks or photo albums. Years ago, I decided to keep my photographic journal in three-inch three-ring binders. Photographs are trimmed and glued onto contrasting prints or designs, placed on cardstock, and then slid into sheet protectors.
Years are noted with months and or seasons, the progression of time, sandwiched between durable covers, tabbed with individual years. Some binders may hold two years, while others may have five or more; printed dates are labeled on the spines.
Once the boxes of already printed photos were selected, the most important photos were kept, while blurred, closed-eyed, or poorly lit photos were discarded.
Afterwards, the images stored on my computer were catalogued and selected. I decided to resize the photos in Photoshop and print them. For example, I could print two or three pictures on a 4 x 6. I also collaged more recent photos on 8 x 10 photo paper. Which condensed the events and seasons as I journaled through the pages.
This project was overwhelming at times, but therapeutic. I encourage anyone to take advantage of winter and chronicle their journey. How do you document your life story?
