One of the things on by To-Do list is scrapbooking the year 2010. I think there’s something like 200 pictures in all. So last night, I spent a half an hour searching for the little buggers. Finally, I found them then began the fun of sorting-birthdays, weddings, trips, what the heck was this? Is that a person?
I apparently have pack-rat tendencies. It was very hard for me to toss some photos. I only convinced myself to do so because the image was blurry and I don’t remember why I took it.
Such a marvelous memory I have.
Any who, as I’m going through the pictures–not actually scrapbooking, just doing the prep work–I realized I scrapbook my novels (Except their better documented). No only do I have pictures of what they look like, as well as journaling about their habits, age, etc, but I also have images from their hobbies, clothes, homes, and the areas they travel in. All of which are cut out and pasted into a notebook.
I take that notebook with me anywhere I go that I might have time to write.
But if it should fall into the wrong hands, what will they think of the comments: who should die next? Sex? Y/N? How could I possibly make this worse?
Surely, if such a thing would fall into the hands of a mental health practitioner, I would be committed.
Then again, maybe not.
Creative people like writers and artists are allowed sanity leeway.
As for my scrapbooks… I never claimed to be normal.
Fortunately, I fit right in with my family:-)