Dreamscapes

This morning I read a recent interview with Nicole Kidman in which she states that she "writes for herself" because it is her way of processing things - of letting things go. Additionally she revealed that during her teenage years she "kept diaries" and that these are now kept in her parents home in Sydney. Apparently her mother recently asked her "Should I burn them yet?" To which she responded, "Not yet, not yet". Because for Nicole having "access to the psychology of myself as a teenager" is a "hard thing to let go".

The article made me reflect upon the many diaries I have written since I was 13 years old and that are stored in the homes were I have lived. Pages filled with thoughts, prose, dreams, angst, love forlorn and love filled. Entries written whilst travelling and living abroad. Stories of conversations, experiences, emotions and questions. 

Infrequently, over the years, I've referred to these diaries; mainly, stumbling upon them accidentally rather than locating them to relive a significant moment from the past. On the occasion when I have began to read through my old journals, I have been easily and voyeuristically engaged with the ideas and emotions of my youth. Then as the final page is turned and the cover is closed, I realign with the everyday with a deeper sense of something that has been me, the me that was and is.

These entries are like dreamscapes that bring back vivid sensations from that time. The wisdom that a life lived brings. It's a wonderful and powerful sensation.

Maybe, I'll start a project this Spring. For one month, every year, for ten years I'd like to keep a diary. To create a snapshot of my life over time, that can be compiled and read one day... when the need for a dream-scape arises.