-Isms: Views on life in rural America

Spoiler alert: If we’re Facebook friends, you may have read this.

Good news, though. Upon reflection, I’ve added to it.

So, I started a new project Saturday night. It’s been brewing for a month … and I needed to visualize and contemplate the layout and process before I began ... even though the supplies sat on the dining room table, next to the laptop, for another month. The red marbled composition notebook, chopped in half, 13 rolls of washi tape and a ream of marbled card stock taunted me to take a seemingly innocent bundle of wide-ruled paper and turn it into something different, something appealing, something useful.

Mission accomplished.

In my spare time ( what’s that? ) I like to relax by designing gift tags and journals. My original plan was to make a gratitude journal, but I’m thinking the final product could be good bones for a junk journal.

There are imperfections … and that drives the perfectionist in me bonkers … but it also adds a dose of realism to the book. An artist, I am not. A creator, I try to be.

First, I swore I had four sheets of matching scrapbook paper to make the cover. Nope. Only three. Had to piece the inside back together. To hide the seam, I added a piece of thick washi tape. Maybe I should have left well enough alone.

See, the paper I selected is heavier than other scrapbooking paper I have on hand, so when I folded it to secure the outside cover, the corners didn’t fold right. It’s a good thing I have metal book corners to cover up - I mean, decorate - the mess.

Then, I needed to decide which washi tape to use to trim each of the 100 pieces of notebook paper. In my mind, I pictured the tape as a colorful contrast to the upgraded cover. While I was overthinking the project, I realized I didn’t have enough washi, and ended up alternating five autumn-themed tapes. None of those are perfectly straight on the pages. Blaming that on nearsightedness in one eye and farsightedness in the other. Or maybe my bifocals.

Did I say this is relaxing?

It is.

It’s a creative flow that differs from writing and I think that’s why I like it. It’s a good break from pounding on the keyboard. Designing a journal allows me to take chances, to experiment with color and texture, to bring new life to an everyday object.

It’s an artistic process, and that reminds me of Mom, who could draw or paint anything, a talent I did not inherit. Typically, I paint with words. Mom preferred paint and chalk. I imagine if she created one of these, it would be damn near perfect (and take much less effort).

The good news: these altered composition books don’t take long to make, just about an hour. It’s time well spent for a moment of sanity and clarity. Plus, it’s way cheaper than therapy.

While I still have work to do on this book, I’m contemplating a Christmas journal, in hues of maroon and pink, trimmed in foil snowflakes and mittens.

We’ll see if I get it done before the holidays. Doubtful, since I’m usually running a day behind schedule, but I’ll try ... and give myself grace if it’s not finished until December 26.