Last weekend, I hosted my first Junk Journal Session at Le Von Boulangerie in Bandung. As a psychologist who loves art and crafts, I enjoy exploring how creative activities like journaling can help people express emotions and preserve little pieces of their memories.
Ten people joined the session. Some were my friends, others were new faces. We started by introducing ourselves, and I shared a little about my own journey with junk journaling: how I began, and how it can gently help us process our feelings.
At one point, Amel, a friend who was also a participant that day, asked about the “junk” I had collected during our hike last year. So I shared the story behind it. As I told the story, the memories came back vividly, almost as if the moment had been quietly waiting there all along. Maybe that’s what journaling does. It quietly preserves our feelings on pages, a small archive of who we were in that moment.
Then everyone started creating their own junk journals. Some brought their own “junk” like receipts, tickets, concert wristbands, and other small things that carried memories. I also prepared plenty of materials: the mandatory journal kits, old magazines, stickers, patterned papers, and other little cute things to play with. It was lovely watching everyone immersed in their process, until finally our very first journal pages were finished.
To wrap up the session, we took turns sharing the pages we had created and the stories behind them.
L-R: Dai, Hazet, Ci Elsa, Janice, Shinta
L-R: Feli, Gandy, Putri, Michelle, Amel
After that, we took a group photo together, a small way to capture the moment, and just like that, the session came to an end.
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After the session, I didn’t go home right away. I stayed a little longer at Le Von with Amel and Shinta. Not long after, four of our friends arrived: Mas Banteng, Mas Ari, Pak Tatang, and Petrus. Everyone except Petrus has been my hiking friend since last year, so in a way, it felt like a small reunion.
Later, we continued the evening with dinner together. Since some of us are Muslim, it also bukber a.k.a buka bersama, I guess? That night we had cuanki, warm and comforting in the middle of the light evening rain. After that, we said our goodbyes and headed home.
Looking back, it was a quiet weekend filled with small but meaningful moments. Pages of memories, the sound of rain, and time spent with good company.
