I started a second journal. It just seemed that I needed to have a separation. Although I'm not sure where that separation lies. Maybe between my past and my present, or between the things I just make and the things I make while thinking.
There has been a rift since the beginning of my creative career. It divides my technical abilities and my thoughts, and bridging it continues to be a struggle. Sometimes I just make things because I can, or have to, and they exist insofar as they are well-made and adhere to my personal design aesthetic. Actually, often my aesthetic is nearly disregarded, like when I build something structural. It just has to do its job. This way of working feels predominately design focused, mechanical, logistical, and there are times I appreciate this cold angle. I can block out everything except for the job at hand.
Then there are the things I make or do because I'm opening myself to a conversation. An ongoing dialog between myself, the materials, the tools, the evolving object, and maybe, eventually, the viewer. Then, within each of these conversations there are certain subjects that invariably arise at some point... my struggle to justify being an artist, what is valid, how to put the work into the world, issues with commodification, and on it goes. When I'm engaged in this sort of dialog, nothing is exempt. What the weather is like, what I've been eating, how well I've been sleeping, the status of my relationship, what bills I need to pay, all of life's minutiae become cast members. So, if I try to speak or write about it, it becomes impossible to leave out what may be extremely personal.
In the last couple years, more of what I do is of this last way. The second journal is my attempt to acknowledge the shift.