Treasures from the Basement.

I started journalling when I was in high school - never going anywhere without a pen and paper. I make notes of things I see and do and I whine and complain into my books. Often I tell people my notebook is my brain. I have only lost one - left it in a ladies room in a restaurant in Manhattan Beach, CA and still wonder what was in it.

Ten days ago my son lugged a part of my collection of journals upstairs from my studio - saying "Mom, this is a treasure! I want to read these. You have got to do this." I know one thing. They are private until I go through them - but I love that he wants to take a look.   

For now I am starting  re-meeting many versions of myself from 16 to 80 years old as the notes, lists and sketches in them give me back days of my life as I lived it.  

Why? 

I have meant to go through the boxes of diaries for ten years or more - - but didn't get to it.

Since my 80th birthday in July I have begun to edit my lists and ask myself, "do I really want to do that?" "Is it important to me?"

It's a yes for sifting and sorting my journals - - where I am finding stories right from the get-go. Stories I want my family to know and maybe some for telling too.

My daughter Robin has said for a long time, "Mom, you have been a Forrest Gump for the women's movement - both for women artists and for the Equal Rights Amendment.." Its true I have been.  And as you may remember from the movie Forrest Gump was often close to the action and met some very interesting people.  He and I do have a lot in common. 

I want to share some of the "foot-notes" to history I collected in these diaries ---- I don't know how I will do it. But I am going to love the months ahead while I  read through them.