Seasons of love
525,600 Minutes. How do you measure... measure a year?
Me, I began scrapbooking and journalling some time back after I noticed that I was beginning to forget a lot of the things and faces I'd seen. Sometimes, when things or memories are not constantly at the top of your mind, they get pushed so far back that after a while they just get compacted and thrashed like the junk mail in your email server.
I got this really beautiful Christian Lacroix travel journal filled with really thick pages and several pop-up artworks. Initially, they were filled with postcards and notes, but after I got myself an Instax camera the scribbles were gradually replaced by credit card-sized photos. The pages grew so thick that now the book fans out like the petals of a blossoming lotus.
Some of my friends laugh at me, saying that scrapbooking is "so last year". Maybe so, but the hipster in me adores it. And the best thing is that unlike social media, which turns the act of updating into an act of pride or a cry for attention, everything you put into your scrapbook and write into your journal is purely for your personal consumption. I like that because I don't get confused about why I'm doing it or who might be reading my thoughts or even how I can garner more 'likes' for my post. I like that the idea of a journal is to keep a secret between me and the book. But then again, I've learnt by experience to not write anything incriminating or hurtful anyway, so it's not like I'd be afraid if someone were to accidentally read my journal. At most, I'd get ridiculed for writing about what I had for dinner last night.