I've always loved journalling.

During the pandemic, I shifted from just writing in my journals to collages. I collected scraps of paper throughout my day and would paste them in at the end. They mimicked the actual events of my day but also alluded to how I felt at that time—whimsical, somber, joyful, what have you.

In total, over the COVID years until 2022, I produced 763 entries. Here's about a hundred of them.

As I sharpened my digital design skills, I found in the journals a safe place to experiment—where no screen seperated me from my work; no keyboard held back my hands. Some days I followed the design "rules" I've picked up along the way. Other days, I deliberaly broke them.

By 2022, my journal habit had slowed to a crawl, and then died altogether.

In 2023, I began to photocopy my favorites—or at least the ones appropriate for public consumption—and archive them. I had an exhibiton coming up and an idea what to do with it.

I printed out all the journal entries I had archived on business card-sized sheets and organized them according to two spectrums: one, how external or internal the influences of that day had on my journalling; and two, what was the entry's purpose (i.e. illustrative, narrative, experimental).

The biggest hit of the night, however, were the 2.5" x 4" journal prints I gave away. Friends hoarded them like trading cards. By the end of the exhibition, I had hand-stamped and handed out every last one of them.

MANIFESTO

Starting in the Spring of 2019, I made it my habit to journal as regularly as I could. My journaling-productivity peaked during 2020 once we all moved off campus to quarantine. In isolation, my journal became my playground. It was a space for visual exploration. I recorded both influential and mundane events in my life, sketched the world as I perceived it, and reflected on my own goals, shortcomings, disappointments, achievements, fears, future, and faith. 2020 accounts for more than half of my total journal entries.

Since 2020, my journal-life dwindled. I tried to maintain my creative rhythm, but life gets in the way. By the time I studied abroad in Oxford, my journaling was nothing except a rare pastime. Perhaps I burnt myself out. Or maybe it’s time for me to leave this work behind me.

This exhibit chronicles, analyzes, and honors my favorite collection of work. After revisiting, cataloging, and scanning each of my journal entries, I placed them on this board according to genre (what was the telos, or end, of that page) and influence (who/what is the subject matter or inspiration of the entry.) Below is one of my journals—censored, of course, because it’s a journal. Since I did not have room on the diagram for all the scans, you are welcome to flip through and view the ones that did not make the cut.

Enjoy.

Caedon Spilman, April 2023

❤︎

theoutfox

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