Phyllis Theroux’s The Journal Keeper – A Memoir is a delightful read. Like having a relaxing sitdown with an older more experienced writer, like talking with your mom or a beloved friend on a spring morning with a cup of tea. In fact, I find her words to be so inspiring that it’s difficult for me to read the book . . . each time I start, I’m inspired to rush to my laptop to jot down words of my own.
On page 40, Theroux writes about a trip to Charlottesville:
We walked around the University of Virginia quad designed by Jefferson. It is winter now, stacks of wood lie by each student’s door. The ivy on the serpentine brick walls is withering, the garden, laid out in pie-shaped triangles, are bare. Something in me doesn’t like to take the time to describe what I’m looking at: the slender student bent over her book in Starbucks, the little snow-suited baby waiting patiently to be scooped up by its mother in the restaurant, the bundled-up Tibetans downtown sitting before their table of trinkets and prayer flags. But another part of me wants to develop a more physically observing eye. This sabbatical from writing has given me the space and time to cultivate my eye for its own sake.
It wasn’t a conscious decision, for me, to take a sabbatical from writing. It just rather happened and so I followed the path of what my heart was telling me to do. I took up photography. Now, anyone who knows me will laugh with surprise at this. In the past, I have often been the gal who cut off people’s heads in snapshots. But on this day back in January, I decided that I wanted to try photography for real.
Posting my photos on Facebook was a revelation. People actually seemed to REALLY like them. I received support and encouragement from professional photographers who liked my stuff and offered links to tips and resources. I started to find that once one photographer started to follow me, so to did others. They all told me not to be afraid and to shoot everyday. And so I did. I took photos of birds, bugs, flowers, lighting effects, glass jars, marbles and the cats. I saw photographs in everything. I bought a new camera. I took more photos of landscapes, sunsets, and my very favorite setting, macro photography. I like to take photos of the things people don’t ordinary see. I even did the photo shoot for one of my articles in INK magazine which was met with enthusiastic congratulations. My editors and artistic clients all said “You could make a career out of this.”
No one is more surprised than I. Reflecting back on what Theroux wrote about her own sabbatical, I have found that she is absolutely correct. Finding another channel, another outlet for creativity, can be a godsend. My pursuit of photography has encouraged my eye to see in different ways and it’s contributed greatly to being able to describe, in words, what my eye sees and what my brain ponders. I’ve also come to see that sometimes only a photograph can describe the beauty of an object or setting.
For the last week and a half, I’ve been writing non-stop. It’s like some wonderful benevolent muse has alighted upon my shoulder whispering words of wisdom. I find that my writing now is more honest. It’s my voice and not the fine line of writing with censorship for professional reasons. I have come to believe, strongly, that finding another outlet for creativity adds to the repertoire of own personal symphony. It reinvents who we are, what we see, and how we express that.
Phyllis Theroux gives seminars and tips on how to keep a journal. Visit journal-keeper.com
