by Someguy
ISBN: 9780811858564
This book captures part of an art project. Some guy (yes, he prefers to go by Someguy) started the project in 2000, releasing blank journals into the wild with an invitation to contribute art, writing — anything you wanted, really — to a few pages, and then keep it going. A total of 1000 journals went out, and most were able to be tracked.
Polaroids, collages, sketches, notes, questions, and stories from those 1000 journals comprise this book. It looks and feels pretty much like a hardcover artist’s sketchbook, and the pages turn easily and practically open flat — which is important, because on most pages nearly every square inch of space is used. Give people the opportunity to create something, free them from all constraint beyond the physical page, and they will say or show you just about anything. They’ll stitch in fabric leaves, spray paint with stencils, draw, and write. They show you what their rooms, friends, and pets look like. They list inspirations, talk about wearing mismatched shoes to work, and paste in receipts from dates. Folks ask and answer questions about fear, love, and anger. They talk about September 11th, about medication, about relationships, about the war. They retell urban legends and jokes.
Some pages made me wince. Other pages made me smile, or wonder how the story ended, or want to figure out what materials and tools they used to make it. It made me happy to see scribbled email addresses and URLs, because I understand that urge to connect. Best of all — and this is the effect Someguy was hoping to cause — it has made me think of the blank journals I have in the house right now, the colored pencils and bits of this and that tucked away, and how I might find the time and space to create something myself.
If you ever wanted to read someone else’s journal (with or without the guilt), wish you could peer into someone else’s mind if only for a few minutes, or just feel like poking around in the twenty first century’s (un)consciousness, you’ll probably enjoy this book. It’s surprising and boring and puerile and beautiful and ugly and not very well done yet stunning, it just depends on which page you are looking at, and how open you are to seeing it.
