Nothing like a worn out journal

Nothing like a worn out journal. It isn’t destroyed from neglect, just well-used. My journals get chewed up by my purse. Get decomposed from my taking them everywhere. Have sand and flora between their pages. Become leathery from touch and overtouch. The wearing out of a used journal is a narrative in itself.

How has your journal(s) worn? I’d love to see. Email me images. If I get enough I think I may put them on the site so we can celebrate the distress of used journals as a collective.

(Journal image: Kendra in Brooklyn)