This is one of the journaled pages from my third sewn-on-tapes book. I've included it as an example of a typical page from the journals which I design specifically to use diary-style.
The focal images I choose for these journals are usually more abstract and are rarely images of people. I often combine many different patterns, papers, images, and colors, but do so with an idea toward cleaner lines and plenty of white space, which often fills with writing in the end, but sometimes is left alone.
The pink paper lace trim and the bit of a fish's tail you can see to the right are peeking through from other pages. The pieces of pages that show through are not planned to happen, but when they do, I make it a policy never to change or remove them. Ever. Not because it's right or wrong. Just because I can, and that's what I want to do--until I change my mind and decide to do it otherwise.
Are you understanding my point? For me, it's all about the moment at hand, which I belive is the essence of a diary-style journal: A place to record moments, as they are thought of, and as they occur and are lived.
This book is presently 1/2 filled with journaling. All the pages were pieced and collage-prepped in advance. That doesn't mean they were ready-made for immediate journaling.
Often when I work in books chronologically such as this one, I'll come to a page whose images don't fit the day or the mood, or aren't what I want. When that happens, the entire page might be redone. Not by ripping, removing or tearing out, but by pasting and/or painting over. This rarely occurs, however. It's really funny--eerie, even--how the page I arrive upon on any particular date seems to contain elements, colors, shapes, etc. that actually point to the day at hand in some way or other. But when things don't click, they're changed. Nothing's too precious to alter. What's precious is the process. And because of that, so is each finished product.