I have been a scrapbooker most of my life. I've always wanted to capture the journey of life and all of it's special moments.
I still have a book from when I was a teenager. The pages are brown and curled. Photos are faded to that comfortable shade of sepia now known as "retro". (How and when did I become retro?) The tickets and other memorabilia cling to the pages for dear life with Scotch tape and a prayer. The book is careworn but the memories it provokes remain sharp and true.
This thirty-year-old book is why I scrapbook. I scrapbook to preserve the memories. I use archival products as much as possible in hopes that my pages will last a few decades longer. I scrapbook as a creative outlet. I love the process of creating a work of personal art from a pile of paper, stickers, adhesive and other bits.
It's the "other bits" that have caused me to lose my way. I scrapbook to preserve memories. Unfortunately, shopping for my scrapbook "bits" has kept me from telling my story. It's almost as if a voice in my head has said, "that day/event/trip/memory won't be special until you buy those new and special 'bits' (that everyone has -- except you)." The crazy part is that I listen to that voice! Sometimes, by the time I've accumulated all of my bits and papers, I've forgotten the details of the event. At that point, I convince myself that "the bits" will tell my story. Talk about denial!
Last week, I spent three stressed-out days in my scrapbook room trying to put a small birthday album together. I have so many birthday "bits" that I didn't know where to start. There were actual tears on Saturday because I didn't know which "bit" really captured the right happy birthday tone. (Sad, but true.)
Monday, I tore the book apart and decided to just make what I liked.
I really like how it's coming together. Most importantly, I'm enjoying the process. All the base pages are laid out. I'm adding my "bits" and smiling all the while. I feel like a new woman and I'm going to have quite a cleansing spree in my scrapbook room.