22 Jan Scrapbooking and journalling in 2026

What’s the difference?

I have kept a diary (journal) since the age of 12. I write in it maybe once a month, sometimes more often, sometimes less often, depending of what’s going on in my life. It is a way of getting things off my chest, organising my thoughts and venting, if I’m honest. Journalling has become quite popular of late for it’s mental health benefits and I can testify that it definitely helps. I believe it was a way for me to deal with my ADHD before anyone even knew what it was. Journalling, for me, is about words and feelings, about working through the internal stuff with yourself. It has a beginning, a middle and an end. However, I’ve realised that there’s been something missing in my life. I felt the need for a more abstract, artistic and joyful way to express myself and record moments of my life. After seeing this post from The Time Forager’s Club, I realised that what was missing from my life was a scrapbook. Or a visual journal, as some call it.

A family history of diaries (journals)

As I mentioned, I have kept a diary since a young age, just as my grandmother Hala had done before me and her mother had before her. I keep all my past diaries in a trunk, just as they did. These are some of them. Each book usually represents a year or two of my life.

My aunt was angry at her mother when she found out that her Babcia’s diaries had been burnt soon after her death, as per the old, Polish custom. Apparently, she wrote beautifully. It was needless loss and waste in the eyes of my auntie. And yet, would I want anyone to keep my diaries after my death? Absolutely not! They are for my eyes only, and only I know how to put them into context and retrieve what is true out of them. Only I know which part to ignore, which part is venting and anger that I needed to work through at the time of writing. Now and again, I like to read my old diaries, and while I always enjoy it, this also reaffirms that they should be for my eyes only. I do not want my life to be judged on my inner processes and passing feelings. If I know I am close to death, I will burn them myself.

A new scrapbook for 2026

A scrapbook, I’ve realised, is something I can leave for my daughters. Something that’s personal in a positive, inspiring way. Something that feels like a hidden treasure, yet does not involve sifting through the recesses of someone else’s mind and dark corners of their past. First, I waited for the right book, with beautiful paper that felt joyful to the touch. Then, I decided to take inspiration from my daughter, Delfina, who makes quills from seagull feathers. She cleans and decorates them, then uses proper ink to write with them, like in the olden days, but even more magical with all the glitter. This timer, I used Delfina’s quill, but I have found a feather to make my own too. My very old pastels were duly dug out from the arts and crafts box. I haven’t used them in years, and thought perhaps I should buy some new ones. However, it feels good to use them, just as they are. I don’t want this new habit to involve buying things.

Back to art

Art has been a huge love in my life, even though I was persuaded to not pursue it as a career. That was probably a wise choice, I don’t know, but I do know how it can make me feel. Paradoxically, knowing how art can make me feel, knowing it’s power to transform, makes much art I see seem endlessly disappointing. It was only at the last Venice Biennale that my faith in art was restored. I spent much of my twenties and early thirties making art like this at home, as a hobby.

This is part of the “Masks we wear” series. Collage was my favourite medium, so in some ways I’m surprised that I didn’t carry it on, in some small way. However, book research, writing, cooking, imagining the book concept, is also a form of collage, isn’t it? There were times in my life when I would stick little things in my diary too, though more often, my diary was used for immediate release and relief, rather than recording and collecting. The journal was more like a personal therapist, rather than a form of expression. Long may it continue… Yet, now I have started my scrapbook, I regret not starting it earlier. This will not be burnt. With all the suffering and the turmoil in the world right now, we all need these tiny moments of joy and magic. This is can be a small way of preserving our humanity. It can be one of the ways in which we win.