This journal came with me to Holland in 2000. Billie signed the journal in California though. She was a natural healer who did body work on me. She told me I had many protective women ancestors watching over me.
Somehow Billie’s journal signing got paired up with this picture — a beautiful combination I think. Although the tentative title to this journal is The Holland Journal, I have several titles on the cover that may be better titles for this journal/book.
Some alternative titles could be Faithful Thesis Journal or Through the Eyes of a Windmill Journal.
I created this journal at a teaching workshop in 1999. I met a good friend at the workshop, but got in trouble for blatantly not paying attention. I was more concerned about using the markers, glue stick, scissors, and sticky notes in the center of the table than paying attention to the workshop presenter (who did contact my principal and let her know I was off-task throughout the whole painstaking boring presentation). I was young and just starting my career as a teacher. It was 1999 and I was living in Southern California. I was also leaving for the Big Apple in a few days. I had never been to New York. And for the record, the workshop was so boring I would have fallen asleep had I not kept myself busy with the makers and glue-stick. But in respect of honesty, all I could think of was spending five days in October under a New York City skyscape.
I created the NYC Journal in L.A. and wrote the stories in New York.
I may have not paid attention during that literacy workshop, but I sure paid attention to New York. The New York Journal is one of my all-time favorite journals. So many doors…so many stories…
Actually, the suspenders (not these in particular, but the concept, the reason I wear suspenders instead of a belt are by prescription, in a manner of speaking. The doctor didn’t write me a script, and in fact I got these particular suspenders not in a drug store but in a hardware store, but he told me that there were two ways of solving, or at least dealing with the pinched nerve in my back. I could have surgery, which has certain risks, or I could stop wearing belts. Now that I live in Tennessee, it makes me look like a farmer or a redneck; in New York it made me look like a hippie. Cultural variation and all that. But it’s a chance to design my presentation, my performance, as it were. Most of my suspenders have buttons on them – patterns like pins, you know. But if you’re going to be a person, be your own person, I say.