Friday, February 13, 2009
The Importance of Journaling
6:58 AM | 
Posted by
Gabby Faye |
My Florida Mood
Sometimes you have more to say than photos suggest. In those instances let the journaling BE the page and either take a specific photo to illustrate it, or just use elements from a digital kit. The journaling on this one reads:
When I am in Michigan after November 1, my mood is gray and gloomy. The cold, the sunless skies, dead summer flowers, naked trees...that is what I see when I look out my window. Why WOULDNT I get depressed? Coffee, chocolate, doesn’t help. Lots of windows, outside decks, two sun-rooms do not help. Even my favorite hobbies soon begin to suffer. Only visits with my granddaughters lift my mood.
"Then we jump into the car after Christmas and, within two days, are in sunny, warm Florida. WHAT A DIFFERENCE!!! Flowers, lots of sun, green everywhere. My ailments disappear and my mood gets as sunny as the skies. There are birds everywhere...BIG birds, friendly birds, birds who love to pose for photos. The flowers are in profusion, colors brighter than I have ever seen before, scents no bottle can capture. The trees bear fruit; bananas, oranges, limes, star fruit, mangos. Paradise!!!"
This coffee mug that I use in Florida sums up in a photo what I had to say in my journaling. I hope the loved ones we leave back in the cold, snowy North, understand a little better why we leave them for 4 months every winter. If not now, maybe when they read this as they get older themselves.
When I am in Michigan after November 1, my mood is gray and gloomy. The cold, the sunless skies, dead summer flowers, naked trees...that is what I see when I look out my window. Why WOULDNT I get depressed? Coffee, chocolate, doesn’t help. Lots of windows, outside decks, two sun-rooms do not help. Even my favorite hobbies soon begin to suffer. Only visits with my granddaughters lift my mood.
"Then we jump into the car after Christmas and, within two days, are in sunny, warm Florida. WHAT A DIFFERENCE!!! Flowers, lots of sun, green everywhere. My ailments disappear and my mood gets as sunny as the skies. There are birds everywhere...BIG birds, friendly birds, birds who love to pose for photos. The flowers are in profusion, colors brighter than I have ever seen before, scents no bottle can capture. The trees bear fruit; bananas, oranges, limes, star fruit, mangos. Paradise!!!"
This coffee mug that I use in Florida sums up in a photo what I had to say in my journaling. I hope the loved ones we leave back in the cold, snowy North, understand a little better why we leave them for 4 months every winter. If not now, maybe when they read this as they get older themselves.
In this example there is less journaling but I wanted the story to live on and I am the only person still alive that knows this story.
"All the while my mother was growing up, the family had at least one portrait taken of each family member each year. Her high school graduation coincided with the Great Depression, and that photo was the last taken until Mom and Dad were engaged years later. For Dad’s birthday in May, the month before their wedding, Mom went to a well-known portrait photographer. He was taken with her look and asked her to pose for him, and he would give her a set of portraits free. This was one of the “head shots”. A large copy hung on a bedroom wall back as far as I can remember. A tattered smaller one was in Dad’s wallet until he died at age 89. This and several other poses came to me and I will preserve it for future generations."
So, when you think about stories you heard growing up, think about whether they will die with you, or live because you took the time to tell them.
"All the while my mother was growing up, the family had at least one portrait taken of each family member each year. Her high school graduation coincided with the Great Depression, and that photo was the last taken until Mom and Dad were engaged years later. For Dad’s birthday in May, the month before their wedding, Mom went to a well-known portrait photographer. He was taken with her look and asked her to pose for him, and he would give her a set of portraits free. This was one of the “head shots”. A large copy hung on a bedroom wall back as far as I can remember. A tattered smaller one was in Dad’s wallet until he died at age 89. This and several other poses came to me and I will preserve it for future generations."
So, when you think about stories you heard growing up, think about whether they will die with you, or live because you took the time to tell them.
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About Me
lauraloub
A granny with a camera and a computer
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