Junk journaling: the origins and its rise in popularity today

From miamistudent.net

TikTok has a way of reinventing ideas as the “new” trend, bringing long-time practices to light, and junk journaling is no exception.

I discovered the concept of junk journaling two months ago when I looked up ‘journal’ on TikTok. I expected ASMR videos of writing journal entries to pop up, but I found creators sharing the content of the pictures, drawings, stickers, wrapping paper and more in ‘junk journals.’ 

I love scrapbooking, so what struck me about this practice?

TikTok is a platform that heavily focuses on creative expression, DIY content and repurposing materials. Over a year ago, Karli Predieri, a senior education major, found people doing it on TikTok and decided to make one of her own.

“Junk journaling is basically just taking, anytime you go somewhere – on a trip or something – you take little pieces. I do a lot of receipts and coasters,” Predieri said. “Whatever I’m doing, I keep stuff. It’s a way to look back on all the things I’ve done throughout the year.”

                                                                                      Photo by Josie Zimmerman | The Miami Student
                                                       Zimmerman shared some of Predieri's junk journal spreads.

Junk journaling has deep historical roots. According to Justine Jenkins, historians claim that journals and diaries existed as far back as the Middle Ages. During this period, the ability to read and write was reserved for the upper class of society.

The practice dates back to the 19th-century tradition of scrapbooking, where families recorded their lives and events through mementos. This was done to capture significant life events, such as weddings, funerals, and childbirth.

Around this time, printing companies emerged, and beautiful art and designs became more accessible in cards, postcards, and even advertisements. The invention of the camera in the 1820s only further encouraged the documentation of everyday life.

By the end of the 1800s, families were gathering and sticking their items into any book they had, including ledgers or blank books. Flash forward to the 20th century — stores committed to scrapbooking began cropping up in the 1990s and 2000s.

                                                                                   Photo by Josie Zimmerman | The Miami Student
                                                                      Zimmerman decorated the cover of her journal.

TikTok user Johannaclough described junk journaling through her junk journals in the last 10 years.

“Traditionally a book [is] made out of various papers (originating from ‘junk,’ which is where it gets its name, but can be a mix of anything you want),” the caption read.

Often when people think of journaling, they think of keeping a diary. Predieri shared what makes junk journaling unique: it uses things that would otherwise be thrown away.

“You’re taking a lot of what you have and a lot of stuff that you would typically throw away, and you’re making it into a keepsake and something to reflect on,” Predieri said. “I add pictures also, which helps me remember the event.”

Since learning about junk journaling, I have incorporated it into my own journal life by decorating my diaries, Bible and recently my first junk journal. Gathering stickers, saving cards and papers, and making use of scraps puts my body at ease.

Something about it feels freeing – there are no hard and fast rules about junk journaling. People can just paste whatever they want onto a piece of paper and make it pretty without perfection as the main goal.

                                                                                                                            Photo by Josie Zimmerman | The Miami Student
                                                            Zimmerman uses different scraps to put together her junk journal

So why junk journaling? Why do the TikTok girls gravitate towards the practice of immortalizing trinkets and scraps that would otherwise be thrown away?

Predieri has a love-hate relationship with today’s world transitioning everything to technology.

“I really like that junk journaling is like a tangible thing, because I have something to look back on,” Predieri said. “I love that there are digital pictures you can look back on, but there’s nothing like having something tangible in your hands that you can look at.”

Junk journaling holds the appeal of tangibility in a digital age, where most people keep their pictures on their phones and sometimes never develop them into physical frames. Social media also plays into this curated depiction of life, whereas junk journaling embraces authenticity.

Physical proof of life events feels different for Predieri compared to what is stored behind a screen.

“Especially with AI and whatnot, a lot of stuff can be edited,” Predieri said. “It doesn’t feel as personal to me when you’re doing it online…and it doesn’t feel as unique as doing it physically.” 

zimmer82@miamioh.edu 

https://www.miamistudent.net/article/2025/04/junk-journal-scrapbooking-arts-crafts-tiktok-hobby?ct=content_open&cv=cbox_featured

On keeping a record

From browndailyherald.com

By Nahye Lee

I’ve bought a journal every year since 2018. It’s been seven years, though it doesn’t feel too long ago that I was a middle schooler gripping a ballpoint and carving letters into paper for no apparent reason. I struggle to remember exactly what drove me to my first notebook, what motivated me to write about my day, how I even knew what a diary could do in the first place. 

In retrospect, it might have been Instagram/YouTube/Pinterest—pick your poison. Sunny, smiling seventh-grade me, dipping her toes in the world of intellectual internet personas, would have seen an artfully decorated notebook, neatly printed handwriting, and pretty stickers and immediately decided that keeping a diary would have to be her new personality trait. I know I nodded to myself as I picked out an airport souvenir and wrote my name very carefully on the back cover. I had a journal, and all eight letters of my name were on it. This had to mean something, so I spent the next few hours looking up YouTube videos of journal setups: smiling girls printing curved letters and penning black swirls on the blank page. 

It was important for me to write as myself. I was 12 and already thinking exclusively about the lives of others. I fancied myself an astute observer peering into windows, listening in on—and miraculously comprehending—adult dinner-table conversations. I was a quiet child, a girl with her mouth constantly shut, a girl who did not really bite her tongue but just preferred to listen. I trusted I had valuable things to say, but never believed they were interesting. It was easier to open my eyes, my ears, and simply let myself remember the words flying around me, adding salt and pepper to the story I overheard before putting it to paper. All this to say I thought I was the least important person I knew—and to some extent, this is still true—and it never registered for me that I could write something substantial about someone so inconsequential. And what would I write about? Get up, eat breakfast, go to school? Walk the dog? Do homework? At 12, I wasn’t a good writer but I’d read enough of the middle school classics to know that my life was not the kind of life you wrote about.

I’d first picked up the notebook because I wanted to be the sort of person who kept a diary, not because I’d recognized that it was important for me as a writer to reassemble bits and pieces from my life into a coherent whole. For a while, I leaned wholeheartedly into this new persona I’d devised for myself: stickers on the corners of pages, monthly and weekly spreads where I wrote down every assignment (not many) and every item on my to-do list (also not many) in meticulous, aligned handwriting. If I accidentally formed a letter I didn’t like, I’d rip out the page and start over. It’s only now that I begin to realize that even then I wasn’t really writing for myself. My first journal still had an audience in mind, and my writing became an embellished, washi tape-covered record of the kind of girl I wanted to be. 

All this neatness came to an abrupt end in 2020. By then, I had been journaling semi-consistently for two years. It wasn’t a regular activity like the notion of keeping a diary might suggest—I wasn’t writing any more than I was reminding myself of the things that I had to do. It was a glorified to-do list that gave me a sense of self-importance far beyond my 14 years—one that broke down with the rest of the world in March. When it happened, I didn’t neglect my journal. Instead, I threw myself into it as a proof of existence. Proof that the words I spoke might stay instead of dissipating into thin air, burdened by the days I spent alone in the apartment. 

I grew so tired of talking to myself that I felt I needed to talk about myself to something else. It was at this point that I split my record-keeping into two: a planner and a journal. I kept my weekly spreads, something that had become so integrated into my life that I simply couldn’t keep track of my schedule without it, and added another notebook that I rather innocuously referred to as the Thought Journal. An accurate label, maybe—I did write down my thoughts, feverishly and often while crying. I remember my pen couldn’t keep up with the accelerated accumulation of my sadness. I would press holes through the flimsy paper, gel pen ripping through the fiber and leaving black ink clustered around the exit wound. Far from the neatly printed words of my first journals, my entries would descend into the written equivalent of primordial screaming, transcribed in capital letters so huge only a few of them could fit on each page. I would journal in lieu of bashing my head against the wall. I was stuck: in the house, in my head, in the fact that I would never be able to write nearly as fast as I hoped. 

However, some good did come of my obsessive daily journaling. This was the first time I allowed myself to inhabit my own mind and hear what I had to say. I no longer treated my life as a kind of backdrop, an empty canvas across which the lives of others would be superimposed. Although it was unfortunate that I was only forced to privilege my own experience because I could no longer eavesdrop on that of others, I still learned the importance of not allowing the voices of others to take precedence over mine. In retrospect, I needed that year to write only about myself, to learn to let my words narrate the stories of others, and to understand that a real journal shouldn’t be kept for aesthetic or literary pleasure. There was nothing pretty about the temper tantrums I threw across the page, but the words that verbalized my breakdowns were still mine. That was the most important part. 

The worst of my mental claustrophobia passed with the worst of the pandemic. I became a junior in high school, which meant that things were getting serious, and some concessions would have to be made. I could no longer spend hours at my desk narrating my deep depressive state, nor could I create an elaborate layout of monthly and weekly tasks complete with stickers peppered in between the lines. Journaling seemed like the easiest thing I could sacrifice on the altar of college applications. I understood the things it had done for my mental health, but it was also unacceptably time-consuming. A fair trade, I thought. I’ll go back to journaling when I get into college, and for the time being, I’ll allow myself the luxury of a Google Calendar and a paper to-do list. 

When I look back on the last two years of my high school career, I remember remarkably little. They blur together into a mess of crying and writing essays and trying to win competitions and hating every word I typed into empty documents. There is a prolonged and effaced period of stress, punctured by what I imagine to be short moments of relief. I don’t know. I wish I could remember. 

I blame the erasure of my junior and senior year on my staunch refusal to keep a diary. I thought it was pointless at the time—I thought I had not a single minute to spare for it, and I felt like I was living the same day over and over again anyway—but I see now that it had still been essential for me to write down, at least, one thing about what had made me happy or what had made me want to drop out. That would have differentiated one day from the next, and I would have been freed from the mistaken impression that my life was just one day after another with no end in sight. Most days, I couldn’t even remember what I’d had for lunch at school when my mom asked. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but looking back it seems like a tragedy that now I struggle to recall what were actually the last moments of high school.

Regrettably, I never really returned to the method of journaling in which I wrote out in painstaking detail everything that happened to me and everything I felt about the things that happened. Getting into college didn’t magically bring my atrophied muscle of journaling back to life, and I know now that I was a fool to assume I would be less busy in college. Still, I recognize the meditative beauty in sitting quietly and going over the details of my day, picking out the best and worst parts of it to indent onto paper. At least one line a day. 15 minutes. 

Writing a journal is like the act of leaving little paper index flags between the pages of your life. Like underlining particular sentences you love and want to come back to, annotating the words that construct the world you experience. One day you will rifle through and take particular notice of the parts you highlighted. You will remember you loved this part, the way it was written, the things it meant. 

Sometimes as I write, I can feel the weight of my life press down on the pen. It leaves an imprint, small dents in the paper that would not have been there otherwise. I exist and I remember, I think. Of course I do. 

https://www.browndailyherald.com/post-magazine/article/2025/04/record-lee 

A deep dive into diaries

From varsity.co.uk/arts

Sadia Batool asks how we should read the diaries of great artists and whether or not we should read them at all 

In a practical criticism supervision on Mark O’Connell’s fourth issue of Tolka: The City of the Dead, the topic of diary writing came up. We began talking about the age at which we each took to the habit. One of my peers recalled first writing during the pandemic and imagining her work being featured in future history textbooks or archives. It is this thought that calls into question the very founding principle of the diary – the belief in its own privacy. If we’re beginning to write with publication in mind, the intimacy and freedom that distinguishes the diary as its own thing ceases to exist.

Instead, we might define the piece in terms of its commitment to the calendar. The English ‘diary’ or ‘journal,’ German ’Tagebuch,’ French ’journal intime’ and Russian ’dnevnik’ all derive from the same root word, meaning ‘day.’ Even as the addressee becomes ambiguous, the first person quotidian narrative style remains. With the exception of these qualities, it is difficult to say anything about diaries which is true for almost all of them. We realise this when we try to categorise by genre. Take its imbalances between literary and historical writing, the spontaneity of reportage and reflectiveness, selfhood and events and subjectivity and objectivity, for example. By disturbing attempts to summarise its characteristics within formalised boundaries, the diary proves to be a misfit form of writing.

Having derived from bookkeeping and the practice of daily religious self-examination, the early modern diary can be seen as an account of one’s personal economy – financial, emotional, and spiritual. In the age of the Enlightenment, Puritans and Pietists used diaries to monitor their sinful selves (and as far as the latter was concerned) to bring about an internal conversion that might lead to salvation. Romantic diarists were inspired by a new historicist sense whereas Fin de Siècle positivists used them for scientific self-observation, tracing connections between the physical and the psychological. Only in the twentieth century does the diary completely absorb itself in the modernist impulse for deliberate self-creation.

‘The journal is a vehicle for my sense of selfhood… Therefore it does not simply record my actual, daily life but rather – in many cases – offers an alternative to it’José Vieira Couto de Magalhães / Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Clearly, pains are taken to produce pieces for historical testimony, self-fashioning, and self-improvement. The first of these motives gives the mundane tasks of everyday life a new colour. In times of distress, victims have sought to log incidents to fully understand their effects and make sense of what’s happened. In both cases, diarists write with the intention to publish for posterity. Only if the latter is primarily concerned with survival, there is little reason for their being inauthentic. Calamities strip individuals of their identity so their writing becomes at once, historical testimony, and a means of self-construction.

Susan Sontag describes the diary as that which enables her to express herself more openly than to any person:

“The journal is a vehicle for my sense of selfhood… Therefore it does not simply record my actual, daily life but rather – in many cases – offers an alternative to it.”

This alternative is what appealed to Virginia Woolf, who began diary writing at fifteen all the way up to her death at 59. Right before her suicide, she left a note asking her husband to destroy all her papers. Instead, he sorted and saved a vast mass of materials, including manuscripts, essays, and most pertinently, diaries. The many mean and offensive remarks made the publisher at Granta declare that the “language used and views expressed in the diary… are those of the respective authors in their time.” If her diary was never intended for reading, her thoughts were never supposed to be criticised. As such, we cannot police her thoughts without being wrong ourselves.

W.H. Auden is also among supporters of the diary for the sake of disciplining “laziness and lack of observation.” This concern is the reason Tolstoy kept a diary from age eighteen to 82. His early diaries tried to develop a narrative template that would create an ordered account of his time. Each evening, he made an account of how today measured against the plan for tomorrow made yesterday. Their never matching left him in search of himself. The old Tolstoy however, attempted to transgress the confines of the temporal order imposed by the first person narrative form. Plath too began keeping a diary at the age of 11. Six years before her suicide, she captures its role:

“Just now I pick up the blessed diary of Virginia Woolf which I bought with a battery of her novels saturday with Ted. And she works off her depression over rejections from Harper’s (no less! – – – and I hardly can believe that the Big Ones get rejected, too!) by cleaning out the kitchen. And cooks haddock & sausage. Bless her. I feel my life linked to her, somehow. I love her – – – from reading Mrs. Dalloway for Mr. Crockett.”

What might’ve been dull to Woolf is vibrant to Plath. Woolf’s diary is just as consolatory as her own and proves to be more than the mere ‘warm up’ she deemed it. What was once a superfluous feminine pastime has proven worthwhile – taking new form entirely.

https://www.varsity.co.uk/arts/29345

Column: Diary of a Covid shut-in

From dglobe.com/news/local 

By Samuel Martin

From home to overseas, Covid was never far behind

WORTHINGTON — Even though Covid-19 has changed everyone’s lives in one way or another, it feels like a lifetime ago since I was in the thick of it. I came into the pandemic as a Minnesota West student and came out the other side a Media Studies major at the University of Sioux Falls. Friends have been made, family has been lost and toilet paper will no longer be taken for granted.

                                                    Samuel Martin                    

Tim Middagh / The Globe

I vividly remember my Ethics Theory and Practice professor Maureen Sander at Minnesota West telling us just weeks before the spring break of 2020 that there was a new illness in Wuhan, China that had spread throughout the country and was beginning to spread into Europe. She asked the class what we made of these reports and cases growing in number. I said nothing, thinking that it wouldn’t make its way across the Atlantic or Pacific. Just several weeks later, I and everyone else in the United States was proven wrong.

My family and I were spending what was my spring break in Mesa, Arizona, where my Grandpa and Grandma Martin went to snowbird, when I got news that my break would be extended by another two weeks. I was mixed on the move; two more weeks meant two more weeks of me playing guitar, which is always welcomed! On the other hand, it also meant two weeks of me not keeping up my progress in math, a subject I have never excelled in.

As we all know, those weeks turned into months. My grade in algebra plummeted to a D+ as I was unable to work one-on-one with my professor, Mike Wieslink. Our choir’s plan to perform “For Good” — originally to have been sung live at graduation commencement — had to be done from the comfort of our homes, where we recorded each of our voice parts to be put together in a video. Even graduation lacked pomp and fanfare. My family watched online as my sister and I graduated from college. My best friend, Max Langerud, and I had made plans to go biking around the lake that day and as soon as my name was called, I said, “Ay! …alright, I’m gonna go into town and bike with Max.”

One thing that struck me was how desolate everything was, especially in Worthington. I began playing Dungeons and Dragons with my dear childhood friends and the streets were nearly empty when I’d drive over to play our weekly campaigns at one of their homes. At Wal-Mart, the chaos and desolation among the aisles and store shelves weren’t too far from being something out of a “Mad Max” movie. Shelves were half-empty, items were strewn about… It still confuses me that toilet paper, of all things, was in such high demand. At one point, I took one of only four packs of toilet paper still left on the shelf.

After several months of ennui and being in a lockdown where I could only either call or meet up with people over Zoom, I finally started the next chapter in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where I had transferred to the University of Sioux Falls. While masks were still required during my first year there, there were in-person classes again.

It didn’t take me long to make some of my closest and dearest friends. In less than a month, I became one of 15 members of an elite friend group known as the Goon Squad. At the first of our many Chili’s dinners — where we are now essentially on a first name basis with the staff and have gone through enough strawberry lemonade to quench a small village’s thirst — I realized I had found my people.

The Goon Squad at the first of its many photoshoots at Falls Park in Sioux Falls, South Dakota during the fall semester of 2020.                                                               

Samuel Martin/The Globe

However, even USF wasn’t immune to the hang-ups of Covid-19. In my first of three Madrigals at college, we would be lucky to have a full ensemble at rehearsal. At one point, I vividly remember being one of eight students at rehearsal while the other eight were in quarantine. As a result of the ongoing pandemic, we didn't have a live theatre dinner performance and instead filmed it to be aired on local TV the following month. In my regular coursework, over a week of my theology class was done online while my professor and his wife were in quarantine.

There was one loss from my life before Covid-19 that still creeps its way back into my life. On April 1, 2021. I lost my great-grandma Helen at the age of 93. She was one of my seven great-grandparents that I had met, and arguably the one I was closest with. At least once a month, we would have half-hour phone calls where she did most of the talking and I’d just nod my head and go, “Mm-hmm. Yep. Uh-huh.” We were so close that my dad joked that I was her favourite. In late 2020, she contracted Covid-19 and not long after would die from residual complications of the virus.

Just a month before, I was among the many students at USF who had finally gotten their first Covid vaccine, with the clinic offered in our on-campus library. I was also one of many who had an adverse reaction to it. I had a headache, a low grade fever and shivers, all of which went on for two days.

My first bout with Covid came just after I returned from a choir tour in Italy in May 2022. In order to return to the States, we all had to test negative the night before (it was the first time I had ever administered a test of my own). After flying out of Rome, we laid over in Paris for several hours before making our way to Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. It was on the bus ride back to Sioux Falls, South Dakota that something felt… off. I was sweating profusely and I had that tender soreness at the back of my throat that’s never a good sign.

After moving back home the next day, there was coughing and lots of it. I took a test that afternoon and saw two pink lines. I had tested positive. Also at home was my sister, who had contracted it in Florida while visiting a college friend. It was maybe just the next day that my mom tested positive and was quarantined in my room with me, where she slept for hours uninterrupted. Two days later, I saw that my dad was home, which was unusual for him on a Friday. Soon after, mom saw me sitting on the couch next to dad and asked why in the world we were sitting together. I just looked at her and said, “Dad tested positive this morning.”

What a weird time Covid was. I lost a loved one and gained over a dozen more. I traveled the world and came back with a souvenir I would’ve never dreamed of bringing back and sharing with my family. I had to learn how to be a student online. I had more free time than I knew what to do with at a time where I couldn’t do anything with it. And yet, I survived. In a way, that’s what life is. Losses, gains, adaptation, new journeys.

Life goes on, even — as I learned — in the middle of a pandemic that brings the world to a halt.

https://www.dglobe.com/news/local/column-diary-of-a-covid-shut-in

Millennials and Gen Zers find happiness in customization trend

From koreatimes.co.kr

By Lee Gyu-lee

In a world of mass-produced goods, fashion has become more than just wearing the latest styles for trend-savvy Millennials and Gen Zers. Young consumers are redefining self-expression through personalization, driving a booming trend of decorating and customizing everything from diaries and keyboards to bags and desk spaces.

Known as “-kku,” a suffix derived from the Korean word for decorating, the trend is sweeping through the younger generation, transforming everyday items into unique statements of identity. Driven by a desire for individuality and fuelled by social media, it is reshaping consumer behaviour and prompting major brands to introduce customizable options as a hands-on way of self-expression.

According to the big data research company KPR Insight Tree, interest in customization is steadily increasing. Mentions of customization online surged by 75.3 percent from January to August last year, rising from 233,274 to 408,986.

Diary decoration is one of the trends that triggered the customization phenomenon. Expanding beyond just keeping a record, diary decorating involves using ornamental stickers and masking tape when writing in a journal. Along with the entries, people often decorate the diary pages with related photos, drawings, and stickers to their liking, as well as create their own covers. 

Decorating journals has become popular on YouTube, with people sharing tutorials for beginners on how to apply and arrange decorative supplies on diary pages, along with ASMR videos and reviews of decorative supplies.

“When I record memories in an analogue way (in a diary), I feel like I can recall them more deeply. That's why I decorate things in my own unique style to make those memories more special and memorable,” actress Jo A-ram said in a recent episode of the reality show “I Live Alone,” sharing that she can spend hours on a single spot when she starts decorating her diary.

A photo of actor Jo A-ram's diary / Captured from MBC's YouTube channel

Along with diary decorating, adorning bags with various types of keychains and plushes, and customizing tumblers with stickers and keyrings have become another prevalent trend.

Lee Young-ae, a professor of consumer economics at Incheon National University, explained that the younger generation’s appreciation for experiences led to the rise of the trend.

“(Millennials and Gen Zers) have characteristics that strongly value first-hand experiences and personal involvement. While previous generations focused on purchasing finished products, these generations prioritize the experience and the practical value as well as the usability of products,” she said.

“As a result, rather than simply acquiring completed products, they're a generation interested in creating something uniquely their own when consuming a product and projecting their personal values onto objects, like things that exist specifically for them. They have (a) do-it-yourself (DIY) desire that stands out compared to other generations. It's not simply about purchasing expensive products for show, but rather about owning products that they've invested with value through personal experiences and processes that make them happy."

As the trend surges, demand for the decorative supplies needed for customization is growing, leading brands to respond with new releases.

According to the online platform 29CM, sales of high-end writing instruments like fountain pens, ballpoint pens and pencils grew by 240 percent this February compared to the same period last year. Diaries and planners increased by 64 percent and notebooks by 43 percent.

Sales of keyring products on the platform from October last year through January also surged by 178 percent compared to the same period the previous year. Plush keyrings saw a 28 percent increase, while mini bag-style pouch keyrings grew by 173 percent.

The platform is set to host its first in-person stationery fair, Inventario, in April, inviting a variety of brands and creators.

Distributor Asung Daiso is catering to the growing demand for diary decorating by offering MBTI-inspired personality stickers and character stamps, as well as DIY plush keychains for bag decorating enthusiasts. It recently rolled out spring-themed decorative supplies like cherry blossom patterned stickers and DIY rubber band keyrings.

Preflow's keyboard / Captured from Preflow's Instagram

Lifestyle brand JAJU has launched a promotion offering personalized initials embroidery with the purchase of its pyjama set. The promotion garnered an explosive response after being temporarily offered last December, prompting the brand to officially launch the service.

Earlier this year, coffee franchise A Twosome Place launched its New Year’s gift set, which includes a tumbler strap and holographic removable stickers, allowing consumers to personalize their tumblers with custom initials.

Building on the trend of customizing diaries and bags, people are now seeking to personalize other everyday items, such as keyboards.

Local shopping mall I'Park Mall held a keyboard festival last month, featuring around 20 brands offering various products for customizing keyboards, such as keycaps, covers and special edition models.

Lee noted that the customization trend will not only continue but is expected to expand to other everyday items.

“The items will change but the trend of creating something yourself through experience will continue … The fundamental appeal of DIY, spending time crafting something unique and of sharing it on social media will always be there, as specific trends might evolve,” she said.

Diary cover made by Broccoli UD / Captured from Broccoli UD's Instagram

“This movement could expand beyond small personal items to larger-scale projects like home decoration, construction or even urban gardening.”

She added that as the country’s economy struggles with inflation, more people will seek ways to achieve self-sufficiency to avoid extra spending.

“Korea’s DIY market, particularly in areas like interior design and self-construction, is still in its early stages. However, as labour costs rise, more people may consider taking on projects themselves, leading to a pattern of increase in related lecture courses, resources, and social media sharing,” she said.

“In Western countries, rising labour costs have already driven a shift toward self-sufficiency in home improvement and crafting. What was once a niche hobby could become a widely accepted practice, transforming DIY from a decorative activity into a larger cultural movement centred on making and creating. As this market grows, there is significant potential for further development and sophistication in the DIY industry.”

https://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/culture/2025/03/135_394156.html

A Life Remembered in Journal Pages

From nextavenue.org

By Dan Gjelten

For a 73-year-old man who is experiencing memory loss, his many journals are keeping his story alive 

"We are important and our lives are important, magnificent really, and their details are worthy to be recorded … our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our life as they exist.." ("Writing Down the Bones," Natalie Goldberg)

I met my friend Chris Thiem in 1981 at a writers' retreat in northern Minnesota. The retreat was led by Natalie Goldberg and it was called "Writing Down the Bones" which a few years later became the title of Goldberg's bestselling book on writing. Our little group of writers were the original Bones. Goldberg made a big impression on us, and we stayed together as a writing group for many years.

                                                                     One of Chris Thiem's journal entries  |  Credit: Dan Gjelten

Chris was a self-described "underpaid teacher of English and a coach in a small Catholic high school" in Mankato, Minnesota. He has lived his entire life in Mankato with the notable exception of his four years at the University of Montana, which he attended on a track scholarship. He was a talented runner and stayed fit his entire life until joints began to deteriorate and limit his activities in his sixties.

I often envied Chris over the years — my life included year-round work and child raising in St. Paul, and I would observe him as he'd take solo road trips in the summers out west (always west – his time in Montana left a permanent love of that landscape) in a pickup that served as a place to sleep overnight. He went there to look for birds and take photos and run the hills. I sometimes wanted to be him - handsome, lean, fast, free. I would receive postcards from his travels with a few lines describing what he was seeing and doing.

"Today I did something out of character. At Nature Conservancy land along the Yampa River, I followed an overgrown path that eventually dead-ended at a rocky point that divided the flow of the Yampa. I was hot and frustrated in my birding. To make the best of it, I stripped off my clothes and slipped into the numbing cold pull of the Yampa. It wasn't until I had my clothes off that I saw the Spotted Sandpiper working a sandbar upriver from me."

Chris and I have stayed in touch over the decades, corresponding via cards and letters (his photos became postcards) — all of which I've kept — and with regular face-to-face visits. Now at 74, Chris is starting to experience memory loss. That isn't unusual, of course. But my friend is unusual — in many ways, he is both an average guy and a remarkable artist, though he'd only agree with the first part of that description. 

                                                                Chris Thiem and writer Dan Gjelten   |  Credit: Lisa Burke

Over the last 25 years, Chris has created ("obsessively" he says) journals which contain his daily writing, quotes from his reading, his photos (processed and printed in his basement darkroom), snippets of letters he's received, his bird lists, keepsakes like diagrams his doctor father made by hand while studying in medical school, his mother's recipe for rice and cheese casserole, a 1974 Track and Field News cover with record setting distance runner Steve Prefontaine, poems, postcards, a cut out from a map of Montana and so much more — the real things of his life — all carefully and artisanally assembled.

Life in 3 Ring Binders

The 3 ring binders (there are 24 of them) are now a physical manifestation of his memories, not just of the last 25 years, but of his entire life. His handwritten words cover the page from edge to edge, sometimes upside down or circling the images. Occasionally, his handwriting changes to a special font emphasizing certain words.

His daily life always, it seems, includes reading (especially poetry) and thoughts of his wife, Patti.

"For the time being, I am reading Helen Vendler's careful explication of selected poems by Emily Dickinson. No predicting the direction my reading will take. Trying also to understand [Robert] Bly's ghazals with, as yet, no definition of what a ghazal is. Suppose I could just enjoy the strangeness of each stanza of three lines. And then, of course, take those 5 pills she brings me in the morning while I sit beneath this lamp and read. Is it true that my life depends on this brief morning ritual? Come to my aid, Emily and Robert!"

And birds! Always lists of birds, an interest that apparently began in his childhood, evidenced by the insertion of an early drawing into the book.

"Here's the deal. I love my Field Guides (Second Edition). I love how desert sun, shining hard and flat through the windshields of three different pick-up trucks have bleached the cover bird paintings fading them to proof of long use. I love the slow curling and peeling away of the clear-plastic cover lamination. I love Maria Gray's signature on the cover's inside, a woman I never met, now dead. But the number of species has changed. The Solitary Vireo is now three species, and I suppose I must eventually switch to the Third Edition …"

Chris started the journals in 1999. I asked Chris recently why he started this decades long project, and he told me "I just wanted to make a book … for myself." At the writers' retreat where we met, we both got in the habit of writing in spiral notebooks — "I was searching - you, too," he said. And the writing "kept us more or less truthful…I wonder if you should be writing about both of us. How friendships happen and last for years. Even, I think, about our weaknesses, what we love, what we didn't get done, why I drifted west in summers, why birds! … maybe it just can't be explained."

Credit: Dan Gjelten

He had no intention that anyone would see his books. (Patti and I have, but few others — until now.) For the record, I have Chris' permission to write this and have tried not to include anything too personal – and they are extraordinarily personal, a record of his life, including his rich inner life.

"Oh! Memory! There's no telling how much I can forget to do…

Chris is clearly proud of the books, though he will often say "they are nothing special" and "no one would be interested in this" and "they are just a way for me to remember, especially the people I have known." He has many deep relationships with friends and old classmates, and many former students continue to write to him and address him as "Mr. Thiem." Even if he says the books are "nothing special," he has taken great care in creating and caring for them. Each notebook is in an archival box, and they are shelved in his office, which is also home to his library of novels and poetry.

He and Patti have recently moved to a different house in Mankato and the desk where he had worked on his journals for years did not fit through the door in the new house, a development he described as "crushing." He told me several times that Patti is getting him a new desk.

Credit: Dan Gjelten

My admiration of his journals leads me to ask what will become of them, as Chris and Patti have no children. "I can imagine they'll be dumped in a fire somewhere," he says - facetiously, I'm sure. I told him the pages could be digitized and preserved — "that's not me" he replies, a man who does not use a computer or a smart phone.

To me, the collection is authentic folk art, creatively and intimately representing a life that has been both outwardly typical but also rich, artistic and literary, which is to say, extraordinary. Chris has lived a life that has been full of thoughtful encounters with nature, art and his students. His journals uniquely document his encounters with words, images, music, friends and the natural world.

Natalie Goldberg taught us that "writers live twice. They go along with their regular life … but there is another part of them that lives everything a second time. That sits down and sees their life again … "

Now Chris sometimes sits in the evening, maybe "sipping something," listening to Van Morrison singing "Madame George" ("the love that loves to love/say goodbye, goodbye"), paging through his journals and reviewing the faces and the landscapes of his past — clear and beautiful, solid and permanent in those pages even as they fade in his memory.  

https://www.nextavenue.org/the-power-of-journal-pages/

What Is a Junk Journal? Learn How To Get Creative With Everyday “Junk”

From mymodernmet.com

By Sara Barnes 

There are some things, like that receipt for your bagel, many of us classify as “junk.” A scrap of paper or a clothing tag serves a purpose but ultimately finds itself in the garbage or the recycling bin. But there's another place for them: your junk journal.  A junk journal is exactly what it sounds like: a book filled with “junk,” or small paper items that you’d otherwise discard. Think ticket stubs, food labels, random stickers—anything can be fodder for a junk journal.

Junk journaling offers a creative way to recycle scraps and collage everyday found materials, turning them into one-of-a-kind works of art. By finding the beauty in things others might discard, you’re celebrating imperfection and finding a new use for contemporary ephemera. There’s an added benefit of sustainability; by joining all these items in your junk journal, you’re repurposing them and reducing waste.

Let’s open the book on junk journaling including common materials to use and how to make your own.

What is a junk journal, and why keep one?

Photo: Adventure 22 by Bill Smith is licensed under CC BY 4.0

Junk journaling is a type of journaling in which the pages comprise things you’d normally recycle or throw away. It's been around for a while, but junk journaling has had renewed interest within the last couple of years thanks to social media users on TikTok and Instagram. As we continue to examine our relationship with consumerism and waste, junk journaling is a way to keep things out of landfills and be more conscious of our consumption.

Flip through the page of a junk journal and you’ll find a variety of ephemera. This includes receipts from food takeout, ticket stubs from a concert, the sticker on a banana, and cut-outs from that catalogue in the mail. You create the composition in a book—a notebook, Moleskine, or an old novel you got from the thrift store—and the possibilities are endless.

Photo: Elena Mozhvilo

So, why keep a junk journal?

Junk journals are beneficial for many reasons. First and foremost, they’re a fun and accessible creative activity. You don’t need a lot of materials or have to be a master artist to start or keep a junk journal. Just grab some scissors, glue sticks, and washi tape to cut, arrange, and paste your “junk” on the pages. It doesn’t have to be perfect.

Another reason that junk journals are great is that they're a sustainable practice. Because you're using materials typically thrown away, it saves them from entering a landfill. These small items become part of a larger creative endeavour with an eco-friendly twist. A junk journal becomes an unconventional memory book. It traces your everyday existence and highlights how creative it can be when presented in this context.

 

Common Materials You’ll Find in a Junk Journal

You can use any material you like in a junk journal. The name evokes the feeling of “anything goes,” meaning you don’t have to be too precious about what goes into your book. Just keep your eyes peeled for anything you’d normally discard—it’s now going into your junk journal!

Look for things like newspapers, magazines, and old books. Ephemera from everyday life can make up the bulk of what goes on your pages. Consider postcards, tickets, maps, receipts, stickers, and clothing tags as all fair game. And don't be afraid to think beyond that. If you’re a crafter, fabric scraps, ribbons, lace or thread cuttings will add fuzzy texture to your pages. Paint or stamps are also a possibility. Don't be afraid to try something new and remember to just have fun with it.

 

How to Use Your Journal

Photo: Orange Smashbook 2012 by Marlenn Arambula is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

A junk journal is personal, and how you use it is ultimately up to you. Creativity is part of the fun. What are your goals for this type of project? Are you using it for memory keeping? A less fussy alternative to conventional scrapbooking? As you gather your materials, consider your “why.” This will inform what you include in your book and influence how you design each spread.

Here are some ways to use your junk journal:

Creative journaling. Express your thoughts and feelings about your day-to-day life through these pages, using only the materials you’ve gathered.

Mixed media art and collage. Mix and match your materials to create artistic compositions and flex your creative muscles. Each composition is an opportunity for another work of art.

Memory keeping and alternative scrapbooking. Use your junk journal to remember that great concert you went to or a receipt from a fancy dinner you won’t soon forget.

Gratitude and reflection journals. One science-backed way to be happier is to keep a gratitude journal. Your junk journal could be used to record daily gratitude or reflect on your life.

Writing prompts and storytelling. Alternatively, you could use the ephemera you place in your junk journal as inspiration for writing. It’s a space to write based on prompts or tell a story—fact or fiction.

Manifesting. Think of the pages as a bunch of vision boards. What do you want your future life to look like? (This is a great use for the catalogues and magazines you get in the mail.)

How to Make a Junk Journal

Photo: Kristyna Squared.one

You’ve got an idea of why you’re starting a junk journal. Now, it’s time to put the idea into action.

Follow these steps to work on your junk journal:

1. Gather your materials. Chances are you’ve already started to collect everything you need. One important thing to remember is that the spirit of junk journaling is to use things you have on hand. This type of scrapbook is about sustainability and keeping things out of the garbage by reimagining their function in our lives. Don’t go out and buy all the fancy papers or little embellishments you’d normally see with scrapbooking—this is about challenging yourself with what you have!
2. Find a journal or book. An old book can become a junk journal. A sketchbook can transform into one, too. Or, you can plug your papers into a hard-bound notebook. Opt for a book you no longer need before you go shopping. If you want to make a unique cover, you can collage vintage paper or sheet music. Some people even like to use an old book cover or paper bags as a base.
3. Start assembling your pages. You’ve got the materials and the book. Now it’s time to start journaling! Begin by placing your ephemera where you’d like it to go. You will need scissors and a glue stick for this. Before you put glue to paper, take some time to play with the arrangements in your composition. See how things look when you layer them on top of each other, or how one element looks next to another. Use paint, washi tape, and fabric to create a variety of textures on the page and add visual interest. You can even make pockets using envelopes or tags to hold some of your trinkets. You can also use writing or pen drawings to unify a composition and record your memories of a day or event.
4. Don’t forget to date your journal. Write the dates when you started your journal and when it ended. That way, if you have more than one book, you’ll know what volume you’re looking at when you refer to it later.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the point of junk journals?

Junk journaling offers a creative way to recycle scraps and collage everyday materials, turning them into one-of-a-kind works of art. It's an excellent way to tap into your artistic side and let your creativity flow.

 

What's the difference between a junk journal and a scrapbook?

A junk journal is typically more random in its design and pages because the items are sourced from everyday ephemera, from old paper to buttons to ticket stubs or postcards. A scrapbook, by contrast, has layouts that might tie to one theme and utilize the same papers or store-bought embellishments.

 

What do you write in your junk journal?

You can write anything! You don't have to share it with anyone. Use it as a way to record an event or express your feelings.

https://mymodernmet.com/what-is-a-junk-journal/