I’ve been keeping a journal since mid-2018, in a small Rymans notebook. Mostly entries are written after a time of activity and interaction, and initially were a result of a winding-down-of-the-brain process. Now I suspect they form a part of that process. It is autumn 2020, and we know what has happened this year. Those times of activity and interaction are fewer now, and more important when they are present, although often more difficult to negotiate and survive, due to their scarcity. I don’t look to the future with confidence or certainty right now. There are no definites. I am having to face re-learning, re-identifying, re-prioritising so many aspects of life I thought were dependable. I believe in my ability to do all that, and re-emerge as something, and it may be that this year is the catalyst for many new things. Right now, evenings are getting darker, funds are having to be measured carefully. I have time for thoughts and making again though, film, painting, words.
It is time to start sharing these journal entries, then. It is now several Rymans notebooks, and continues to grow. I’ve taken late December back in ’19 as a convenient starting point. Most are undated, but they are numbered. They won’t be published in order though, I prefer to dive in to pages in a random fashion, and find contrasts in thoughts and feelings from one entry to the next. What concerned me at one time seems insignificant now. If you want to read them in order you can, of course, but not in one go, you’ll have to wait until the numeric jigsaw pieces appear. I’ve no idea how many there are in total, or how many there will eventually be. I don’t know when it will end, or what will come next.
Andrew Stevenson 