This…all of it! Your practical no-nonsense lens that you look through is just such a great fit to your words. I can smell it, feel it. I sort of feel like I might have been there too somehow!
"saved pertinent pages, and tore up the rest (which I still have in a large vat)"
!!
Are you able to you articulate why (you don’t need to share unless you want to)? Tbh it’s the sort of thing I probably would do, but perhaps not be able to verbalize well, at least for a while. It’s interesting because you “saved” both. But clearly drew a distinction between “pertinent” and “not,” whatever that meant for you. Does privacy somehow come into it? You obfuscated some of the pages for other eyes, but didn’t discard.
The main thing was that I had just spent 7 months clearing out my childhood home after my mother went into care, and I didn't want to put my daughter through the same thing when the time came for her to deal with our house. I went through the whole house finding stuff to get rid of, and the journals were just part of that. "Pertinent" to me was stuff that was interesting for whatever reason, because believe me, it wasn't all interesting! A lot of it was pages and pages of me working through things, or venting, etc. Useful at the time, but not worth saving. I also saved any bits of artwork.
I don't remember clearly if I intentionally saved the torn pieces to create art with, but that's what has happened with some of it so far—for example I covered a large (4 foot by 6 foot maybe?) piece of paper with torn pieces, layered like tiles or feathers, and then painted a self-portrait on top. Feels self-indulgent, but looks pretty cool! Pictures of that, and also of the vat of torn pieces (there's SO much left) can be found in my Instagram feed, but I don't know how far back they are.
I only made it to journal No. 63, and of course I've filled more journals since then, so who knows when the project will end...
There's so much I love about thist post, especially the decorated envelope from the early 80s. I know precisely where that is on Queen Street East. And that envelope has a hybrid of Sneaky Dee's/Ernie Pook's Comeek vibes. You're making me nostalgic for Toronto in the 80s.
I've never considered myself a visual artist of any kind. I've always been about the words. But between your collage class (which I just have to sit down and do, dammit!) and what you've said here about the memoir comics, well, you're giving me tons of inspiration in new directions. Including going through and shredding and recycling my old journals, because I cannot let myself die with the notion that anyone may see the drivel and angst found within those pages.
This is great story telling Betty Ann! I’m not sure I could divulge my tumultuousness teen years!
Haha... once you start doing it, you get used to it! 😅
This…all of it! Your practical no-nonsense lens that you look through is just such a great fit to your words. I can smell it, feel it. I sort of feel like I might have been there too somehow!
Haha... maybe you *were* there! Any chance you were working as a cleaner at the Delta Laurel Point Inn in 1979?
Thank you.
Heh heh… I did work as a cleaner, 1978….Toronto. It was a wicked job and a real education🤣
Hilarious!
I love this perk into the origins of Life’s Work and your first attempt at graphic memoir. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Shelley!
"saved pertinent pages, and tore up the rest (which I still have in a large vat)"
!!
Are you able to you articulate why (you don’t need to share unless you want to)? Tbh it’s the sort of thing I probably would do, but perhaps not be able to verbalize well, at least for a while. It’s interesting because you “saved” both. But clearly drew a distinction between “pertinent” and “not,” whatever that meant for you. Does privacy somehow come into it? You obfuscated some of the pages for other eyes, but didn’t discard.
The main thing was that I had just spent 7 months clearing out my childhood home after my mother went into care, and I didn't want to put my daughter through the same thing when the time came for her to deal with our house. I went through the whole house finding stuff to get rid of, and the journals were just part of that. "Pertinent" to me was stuff that was interesting for whatever reason, because believe me, it wasn't all interesting! A lot of it was pages and pages of me working through things, or venting, etc. Useful at the time, but not worth saving. I also saved any bits of artwork.
I don't remember clearly if I intentionally saved the torn pieces to create art with, but that's what has happened with some of it so far—for example I covered a large (4 foot by 6 foot maybe?) piece of paper with torn pieces, layered like tiles or feathers, and then painted a self-portrait on top. Feels self-indulgent, but looks pretty cool! Pictures of that, and also of the vat of torn pieces (there's SO much left) can be found in my Instagram feed, but I don't know how far back they are.
I only made it to journal No. 63, and of course I've filled more journals since then, so who knows when the project will end...
There's so much I love about thist post, especially the decorated envelope from the early 80s. I know precisely where that is on Queen Street East. And that envelope has a hybrid of Sneaky Dee's/Ernie Pook's Comeek vibes. You're making me nostalgic for Toronto in the 80s.
I've never considered myself a visual artist of any kind. I've always been about the words. But between your collage class (which I just have to sit down and do, dammit!) and what you've said here about the memoir comics, well, you're giving me tons of inspiration in new directions. Including going through and shredding and recycling my old journals, because I cannot let myself die with the notion that anyone may see the drivel and angst found within those pages.
Thank you Renée. You always leave thoughtful and heartening comments!