At the start of my sabbatical year (June 2004) I gave myself a simple assignment: do at least one journal page a day for a whole year. My rules were to number each page sequentially from one to 365 and to not rip out any pages. I had never made art for so many consecutive days in a row, nor had I ever been as disciplined with my journal keeping. During the year I filled over four black-bound journals with my art and writing. It was easier than I thought it would be. Without the constraints of a full time job, integrating my art and life was a joy.

My journal pages proved to be a springboard for the other bodies of work I created while on sabbatical (rocks, cows and ravens). Within the covers of my black art books I explored new media and studied my subjects and surroundings. If my work lacked freshness and a sense of discovery, I'd make myself dive off into a new direction. When I was in one place for an extended time, my pages and art shared a similar vocabulary. In New Mexico, for example, the ravens filled my journal pages and spilled out onto my Stonehenge art paper. When I was traveling in Europe, across the U.S. and in China, I recorded much of what I saw and did with my camera. Journal pages from those times are more about daily events and discoveries and less about ongoing artistic exploration. The photographs (rarely included in my journal because of printer inaccessibility) are similar to the pages in spirit but are more complete as works of art.

Whitney Robbins, October 2005