I've lived in my current home for a very long time, and soon I will be moving. I've lugged a bunch of sketchbooks and journals with me through every one of my past moves. There hasn't been that many moves since college, and I haven't really had to think about making the decision to get rid of things. It involves work and a ton of mental energy, and it's pretty much the last thing to tackle on my list-of-things-I'd-rather-not-do. But, when a move is imminent, it's time to reinvestigate what it is staying and joining you for the next series of life adventures, and WHY. Maybe some of the stuff no longer makes sense to keep from a practical standpoint. Maybe it's no longer useful. Maybe it just doesn't make you feel good inside.
The stuff in the above picture I've held onto mostly— if not completely— because it is part of the map of my own development as a person and as an artist. Some of the art is fun to look back on... but 90% of it, really, is not. As for the journals, I'm still waiting for the 10% fun on those. But on the flip-side (silver lining!): they show me how far I have come in every sense. And knowing that makes me feel proud and relieved and happy a bunch of other good things.
But... it also makes me want to put the past in a nice, comfortable resting place— like in a bonfire perhaps, or a commercial shredder machine.
I had a happy shred-fest a few years ago, after after my sisters and I cleaned out my mothers' house. I shredded so many sketchbooks and pages of personal journals. I still have great feelings about it, and have no regrets at all. Maybe that's a clue that I would do it all again? Think it's time for Round Two.