Sometimes my visual journal is just a place to put together things I like.
Flowers from the garden, some French ephemera, some swirly paper and doodly lines, a Tibetan prayer flag . . . .
I don't always even need to add words, although I guess I usually do.
This act of visual journaling is so pleasing, so cathartic.
Just like the teenage girl's diary where all is spilled, all the secrets and dislikes and crushes of the day; just the act of making images out of this and that feels so satisfying.
It has been said "we don't find meaning, we make meaning," and I think that's the key.
To create meets some inner need to have a voice, and worrying about perfection or making art for the wall are not that means, a journal allows us the freedom to make a mess out of what we see and think, and thus know it better.
Hooray for that!
"We began as mineral. We emerged into plant life, and into the animal state, and then into being human, and always we have forgotten our former states, except in early spring when we slightly recall being green again." --Rumi