S.R. Wild: Artist and Graphic Designer

Journal #6 pgs. 38-39

Here’s one of the pages I did today—technically it’s two, since it’s a spread. The other pages aren’t finished yet.

Just in case no one noticed—and I know no one did because no one has looked at the pages—I finished uploading Journal #1 a few weeks ago. There’s some other new (old) stuff here and there too.

I’m feeling a bit feverish, so I’m going to eat the raspberry sorbet I walked through the rain to get and find a movie in my small collection that I haven’t seen 23 times. And then, I will take over the world.

Journal #896

While digging through my archives (boxes, drawers, bags, under the bed, my back pocket, etc.), I found scans of my contributions to Journal #896 of The 1000 Journals Project. Seeing as how the 1000 Journals website is screwed up and images of the journals don’t load (why do people complicate things with Flash?) I’ve put them in the journals section.

I haven’t looked at these pages in awhile, so it was entertaining to read the drivel I wrote. I’m not one to reflect on the past. To me, it seems counterproductive. I loathe seeing old friends or acquaintances and hearing those spine-tingling words “Do you remember when we _____?” I usually answer that question with a question: “Can I have a shot of whiskey?” However, I couldn’t help but think about what was going when I made these pages.

I was living in a small apartment that barely had any windows. The windows it had had no views—unless you consider a wall a view. It was late summer and according to what I wrote, it was “hotter than Satan’s perineum" (I don’t like really hot or cold weather, which is why I love fall and spring and want to move to San Francisco). I was killing time between the summer and fall semesters at SUNY Plattsburgh; unemployed; my heart had just been broken; lived alone; didn’t watch TV; didn’t have any friends or know anyone in town; stayed up really late or all night; spent most of my time making art, working on my website, researching obscure obcessions, or just tinkering around my studio (my whole apartment at the time) and… and… and wow, except for a few things, this is similar to my current situation. This is one of the reasons why I dislike reflecting on the past. I start to realize that I repeat myself.

I checked out the 1000 Journals Project book today. It’s pretty cool, and well-made. There are tons of images from the journals. The coolest part is the two stitching pages that must of been difficult and expensive to produce. Sadly, none of the pages I did are in it. There are a few pages from the one I worked on: a couple from the girl who stunk-up the journal with perfume before she sent it to me a couple from a guy that had it after me.

All this talk of journals has given me an idea: The Vermont or Burlington Journal Project. It isn’t an original idea, but an idea none the less. It’s sort of a localized version of 1000 Journals. First, I’d get a journal, a Moleskine Large Plain Journal to precise. Then, someone would get it, do something in it, send me scans of what they did, and pass it on to another Vermonter or Burlingtonian. That would repeat as necessary until the journal is full and returned to me. I’d make a website where people could track its progress and look at images of it. I don’t know. Is that stupid, lame, and/or pointless? Let me know if you’re interested.

Finally, the Journals Section is Alive

I finally got off my fat ass and started putting my journals on here—actually, I had to be on my ass to do it. I kept putting it off because it involves scanning hundreds of pages and then editing the images. I have about a quarter of Journal #1: The Adirondack Journal scanned, edited, and uploaded to this site for your viewing pleasure. If I make that pot of coffee I’ve been thinking about for the past hour, I may have the entire thing up by morning. Journal #6, the one I’m currently working on, is on here too. I’ll be putting more pages from it on here as I finish them.

I hate using the words “journals” and “journaling” because they sound… well, sogay. It reminds of some teenage girl writing about how no one understands her or about some boy she fancies. I could use “scrapbooks” and “scrapbooking”. That isn’t any better. I picture some grey-haired woman pasting pictures of cats or dried leaves in a book that has the word “memories” written in yarn on the cover. Alas, I’ve never been able to come up with anything else. It’s irrelevant anyway. I’m not going to let semantics keep me from doing something.

I first started making journals after I purchased the book Ports of Entry: William S. Burroughs and the Arts and saw William S. Burroughs’ scrapbooks. I was quite familiar with his writing and recordings, but had seen little of his artwork and none of his amazing scrapbooks. Ports of Entry was the catalog for a Los Angeles County Museum of Art exhibit of Burroughs’ work (I’d cut off my pinky to see a show like that). I was surprised that he made such a vast amount of artwork. Another Burroughs idea I tried (to steal) was shotgun painting. I attached a few bags of paint to a piece of plywood and fired at it. A piece of shot ricocheted off the wood and nicked the top of my father’s head. That was the end of that. Not my father; he was fine.

Then there’s The 1000 Journals Project. It’s a really cool idea. Someguy (that’s his name) started it in San Francisco by leaving blank journals in public places. They had instructions that said to do something in the book, give it to someone else, and send it back to Someguy when it was full. Later on, he created a website where you could signup for journals. Only one journal has been returned since the project started in 2000. There’s a book out now and a film coming soon.

It was difficult to signup for one because he didn’t release them very often and a lot of people wanted them. After a week of obsessively visiting the website (I’m very persistent), I was lucky enough to signup for a journal. I received it a few weeks later, did my thing in it, gave it to a friend and my professor to do their respective things, and sent it on its way. I’m still in line for three other journals. It’s been five years. As optimistic as I am (being not at all), I don’t expect to receive them. But, I am a patient boy and I can wait.

Two years ago, during my usual nighttime book perusal at Borders, I found Altered Books, Collaborative Journals, and Other Adventures in Bookmaking and it had a chapter on The 1000 Journals Project. To my surprise, a couple of the journal pages I did were in the book. Last year, someone contacted me about interviewing me about my experience in the project and journaling in general. Sadly, it didn’t work out. However, both incidents titillated my ego (probably still do or I wouldn’t be telling you now).

Journal

The reason I started this blog was to put up pages from my journal (my analog blog) as I finish them. I have yet to do that. I still plan on doing it. Unfortunately, I haven’t been working in my journal as much as I’d like to, due to distractions like this site. So, to give you a taste of what to expect, here are some pages I did way back in January.

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