The simple life, as applied to scrapbooking

1 Unless the LORD builds the house, 

       its builders labor in vain. 
       Unless the LORD watches over the city, 
       the watchmen stand guard in vain.

 2 In vain you rise early 
       and stay up late, 
       toiling for food to eat— 
       for he grants sleep to ^[a] those he loves.

--Psalm 127

There's a reason that I say in my profile that I desire to live a simple life in a complicated city.  It's a reminder to myself that I haven't always even known that was a thing that one could do.  It takes conscious effort.  And reminders.   

My scrapbooking hobby is an example of this principle in microcosm. I've kept photo albums since I married in 1987.  The first ones were nothing more than taped down photos with some journaling in black pen.  But I have accumulated a whole shelf full of these albums now, chronicling three cities, a whole parade of local friends who have come and gone, out-of-town visitors to our home, the cycle of seasons from the vantage point of the city's parks, trips to concerts and museums, visits to Georgia that occur like clockwork in summer and at Christmas, vacations, some homeschooling projects, violin recitals (which really don't work with the format, but still, they happen) and of course, a growing child.  No one looks at them but us.  But I keep doing them, because they remind me that time passes and that I should savor each year.

My process is very simple.  It has to be, because I only do this about twice a year for a few days per session.  It is:  Cull photos and group into spreads.  Choose paper that picks up the colors in the photos.  Do the basic layout and get everything taped down (because having photos fall out every time you pick up an album is a deterrent to looking), journal before I forget what happened, and then, if there's time, add some embellishments.  There's rarely time to really finish things, and most of my albums are very simple.  Since I use tan pages, many times I just arrange the photos and label them.  Period.  And put all those little tickets, notes, and programs in pocket pages. 

 

This is about as complicated as my scrapbook pages get

Well, while I took a break to paint a portrait for two years, the entire scrapbooking industry changed on me.  I don't mean that my album color was discontinued; that always happens.  I mean that the whole industry proliferated, became professionalized, and got much glossier than my ability to keep up with it (much like the homeschooling community).  When I finally got back to my safe, limited Creative Memories website, none of the handy little sleeves that I'd always put drawings and tickets in existed anymore.  They had added digital products.  The other sites I went to were about downloading and printing out fonts, inserting brads, sewing, buttons, ribbons, journaling right on top of the photos, tags with vague but empowering sentiments on them, and the pages were usually organized around one glossy black and white photo per page.  Help!  Where did my humble little hobby go?

My pastor, Dr. Keller, says that New Yorkers have to realize our need for grace more than any people, because back in Peoria, we used to think we were the best vocalist in town, but then we came to New York and realized with chagrin that the musicians in the subway were better than we were.  Well, Dr. Keller, it's even worse than that:  The musicians in Peoria are pretty good, too!  (With my apologies to Peoria, which is no doubt a fine place.)  

Every woman these days is a professional level photographer, an ace scrapbooker, a Martha Stewart in the kitchen, sews her own adorable kids' clothes, encourages the downtrodden, and is somewhere in the midst of running a co-op and teaching her six children the classical canon. Oh, and on the side she is also a political pundit who keeps up with current events and comments with style and wit.  Did I mention that she hosts dinner parties?  Is always a proactive parent?  Has a profitable side business on Etsy?  And of course, if she lives in Manhattan, the kids are headed for the Ivy League.  

Do you see how quickly my mind can take a simple thing like wanting to document a vacation and blow it all out of proportion?  This is why I say on my profile that I desire to live a simple life in a complicated city.  It's not an accomplishment; it's very much a reminder that the simple life is a work in progress.  No one, and I mean no one, can have everything.  

My real-life and online friend Susan once mentioned to me that there was a such thing as an HSP, or high sensitive person. (I'll let her tell you how that applies to her if she likes, or not.) Intrigued, I looked it up.  It's a book by Elaine Aronson, and there's a website, with a test.  I scored just about 100 on that test.  At last, I'm an overachiever!--at getting all worked up and needing to take a deep breath. 

So this is your reminder, in case you needed one.  It's not a contest.