[mini-tutorial] Thin Line Squeeze Bottles

I was wandering through Hobby Lobby, as I do, and found these little bottles with needle tips. Now, I’ve used these little bottles in my artwork before and made quite a mess, and wondered how the experience would be changed if the tips were really, really little.

It is awesome. 

I mixed some fluid acrylic with water in one, put on the needle tip, and started playing around. You can draw remarkably well with these bottles, and I found myself doodling and then experimenting with writing. 

 However, be careful! Once the acrylic is gone and there’s only muddy water left, you won’t get those precise lines anymore. So play around with your watercolors and acrylics in these bottles to find the right viscosity to make some really cool marks.  

The great thing is, since you’re writing in acrylics, you can work over them or color the shapes in without having to worry if the ink is going to spread. And since you can hold the bottle much more firmly, and have a solid tip, you can write and doodle with it much easier than if you were to attempt the same thing with a brush. 

 

Working with Layers... (part 2 of last weekend's vid!)

Here's part two for your enjoyment. I spent a lot of time editing this to make it dynamic, informative, and fun! Sorry about the end; the way I had everything set up meant there was a light above the camera, and the camera didn't like that -- but I'm pretty sure there's a LOT for you to learn from this vid that you won't miss me writing words with a black marker. ;) 

I loved making this one! I think for next week, I'll be showing you the basics of stitching on paper or fabric with a darning foot. Doodling with a sewing machine for the win! 

I've gotten a LOT of questions for next week's Q&A vid; I LOVE learning what you are curious about, because that helps me help you! *G* 

I'll see ya tomorrow; I'm a bit tired and sore from last night's casino adventure (and no, I didn't win big, but I did walk out with $10 more than I walked in with!), so I'll be here watching The Dark Crystal and doodling ideas for a new mini-class I'm psyched to write. 

Truly Connecting

 

My first visual journal was a large lined Moleskine I recovered from the bottom of a desk drawer in 2005. 

Being sick most of last week kept me out of the studio (and often off the computer as well), and I had little energy to do anything more than doodle or work with basic watercolors. I found this Moleskine sketchbook tucked into my bookcase, and found it was the perfect size to settle on my lap. The paper is butter-smooth under my Copic multiliners; it took two days to finish the zentangle, my spiraling, mushy thoughts leaking out around the edges. 

The simplest tools can deliver the most awakening of thoughts. 

 

Settled on my bed, large, funny headphones over my ears, I found myself writing out lyric fragments as I listened to the new Snow Patrol album. Snippets jumped out at me as I slowly wrote and re-wrote the words in terra cotta watercolor, parts of the page resisting the paint. 

This is your life. This is your time.

A symphony, slow music of longing

If this is all you’ve ever asked for, then this is all you’ll get

Every eye trained on a different star

Suddenly, all these fragments made sense. When people ask me what I do for a living, I often joke and say, “I write art and inspiration articles. I guess I wasn’t specific enough when I wished to be a writer!” 

 

And it’s true. Maybe right now, I’m not wishing hard enough. Or big enough. I sometimes feel fragmented by all the things I love doing that my week often ping-pongs around from one media to the next, never settled long enough to finish anything long-term. I have, as they say, my fingers in too-many pots. 

But there was magic that night, sitting on my bed. I spent two hours working on a spread of words and images — an evil queen fading but still watching a princess — getting lost in the motions, the process. I wasn’t creating a dynamic art journal page full of bold colors and layers and all that jazz. No, instead, I was truly connecting. 

Has this happened to you? Have you gotten so caught up in the fads and the colors and the myriad of materials at your fingertips that you’ve forgotten your roots? When was the last time you checked in with yourself?

I would love to know in the comments below. 

Smashing!

 

Yes, I did it. 

I bought a Smash book. 

It happened a little like this: 

 

“I really can’t stop thinking about those Smash books,” I said. 

 

“They look really cool,” Becca replied. 

 

“But I can’t really justify getting one, even with my coupon.” 

 

“I was thinking of using them with my photos.”

 

“Yes! We can have an easy journal devoted to our Project 365 photos! And can keep each other in line!” 

 

*Zooms to Michaels*

Paraphrased, of course. I think my fever’s finally broken, but it’s done this before, so I’m still under blankets, warm, and taking medicine. I’m quite loopy, too. And may be making poor decisions like designing a tattoo in Gallifreyan for my right wrist (I feel lopsided, with only one inside my left wrist). 

Right. The Smash book. 

I decided that, with the coupon, it was worth it to grab something easy to put my photos in. Right now, I’m posting nearly daily on my Tumblr (not really for the past two days, as there is surprisingly little to photograph when you’ve spent three days in a recliner watching TV and doodling in a Moleskine journal) and printing them every four days or so to Smash ‘em in the journal. The fact that my phone takes amazing pictures and I can post directly to Tumblr ensures that I'll never lose any of the pics, and will always have a place to find them all from any computer.

And it’s nice. I don’t intend to make it as artistic or painted as my art journal, or to do a ton of work in it. That’s not what it’s for. Instead, this journal is simply photographs. Taped down, with a little bit about what happened that day, where the photo was taken, etc. I already have several creative journals going, so working in the Smash book is relaxing. No backgrounds to make, or paint to get out. And that’s the magic of it, I think. I was chatting about this with Christen and realized the easy, slightly-less-spontanious nature where the photographs speak for themselves is perfect. Don’t want ‘em overshadowed by everything else.

(Here's a tip: You can connect your smartphone via Bluetooth to a CVS photo kiosk and print 'em instantly from there; I did this in Oklahoma City when I visited Deina and the photos come out perfectly!) 

Think how cool it’ll be to look through it come December 2012.

Grown-Ups Can Have Sleepovers, Too!

 

I spent New Year's Eve and most of the day after at my darling friend Becca's for a night of art, sparklers, and wine. Lots of wine. So much fun was had, I didn't wake until the next afternoon, but most of the time, I was sitting at her kitchen table working in my journal while she worked in hers. We're that kind of people. 

Excuse the grammar, as there's really no other way to say that! 

The next morning, when I crawled out of bed and padded into the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine, Becca told me the first video for Traci's online workshop (via Strathmore Artists' Paper's 2012 series) was up and she'd already watched it. I first questioned how much longer than me she'd been awake, then dashed into her art room to commandeer her laptop and watched the videos over again. 

(It's a free series, so go over and watch; they're fabulous!)

We were so inspired, we grabbed large sheets of paper and started playing, spraying, and painting. It's amazing how much more fun art is when shared with someone else. 

Here's a mini!vlog of lazy to show you all we created. I must really dash, now, as I need to wash out some hair dye! 

Journal Page as Rough Draft

When I was little, I used to vacation in the Wisconsin Dells. A river runs through there, and you could pan for “gold” or collect stone and rocks. You couldn’t really see what was hidden underneath, so I went for the ones that called to me. Only after some time in the rock tumbler did they revel their beauty. 

This is exactly like working on a journal page. 

Approach it like a rough draft. 

When you’re working on a rough draft, the goal isn’t to create a perfect finished project, but get all your ideas out of your head. 

 

Whenever I sit down to write, whether it’s an article for a magazine, a blog entry, or a story, I want to create a beautiful disaster. I want to make a mess of things. I want mistakes and funny-sounding sentences and paragraphs that ramble. I want a big mess. I want every idea and thought down on the page. I aim to create just this, which, in turn, takes away much of the pressure to be perfect. 

And I put this to use when working in my journal. Don’t think, just do. Extra points if it’s a disaster. 

The magic comes into play once you’ve gotten everything out of your head. Take a step back. Grab a cup of tea. Go for a walk. Come back with a pretty colored pen or paint and start refining. Paint over bits that don’t work Find shapes in your random brushstrokes and draw them out. Build up layers, covering what doesn’t work and accenting what does. And in the end, you can start over. 

Each step is one in the right direction. There are no steps back. 

I'll be discussing this idea more in-depth in this week's issue of Journaling Deep. 

Creating Beauty in the World

 

Wow, have I had a whirlwind of a few months. 

Sitting with Dawn over hot chocolate the other day, I talked about how I feel like myself, finally, for the first time in months. She smiled and said, “That’s the fibro-fog. You were stuck in it.”

Isn’t it always when someone else says something, you suddenly realize you knew it all along?

I started July with two family members in the hospital. I battled with 100F+ temperatures to film and complete True to You 2. September saddled me with carpal tunnel + fibro so bad, I couldn’t use my hands for two weeks. At all. I only got full use of them back in October, and by then, I was so buried by months of being behind, I was digging myself out.

Here’s the thing about fibromyalgia -- it’s always there, in some way, every day. As I type this, I have orthopedic gloves on, a wrist brace on my right hand, and my wrists are on a nice, bead-filled wrist pad for my keyboard. I’ve all but given up on typing on my laptop, and have tried to cut down on IMs, if only so I can save my hands for my 2,000 words a night for NaNoWriMo.

But I’m doing it. I’ve finally dug through all the sludge and come out on top, ready to tackle the world, a little wiser. Here are a few things I’ve learned these past few months:

1. Better safe than sorry. When my hip started to hurt, riding my bike wasn’t the best idea. And I could have spared my wrists if I’d only been kind to them instead of pushing myself.
 


2. Journal all the time. I couldn’t write for a bit in there, but I could paint with my fingers and cut things out. When in the hospital, I had my journal on my lap to relieve stress (you can see my visitor’s badge from the ER on the cover of my current journal). There is SO MUCH you can do even if you can’t use your hands, or are tired, or are in pain. I am blessed to know so many strong ladies who do art every day with FMS and other chronic conditions.

3. Know it is okay to say you can’t handle things. This is a lesson I’m still trying to learn. Especially with trying to make a living online, and thus having to deliver content and actual items. I dropped the ball with journal orders and prints in the Etsy shop. I am so, so sorry. And don’t say that I don’t need to be, because I do. I need to be more up-front about what’s going on. But always know I am doing my best.

4. I’m thankful. If it weren’t for my FMS and surgery in college, I would have never picked up a pen and started to draw. Or a paintbrush to learn watercolors (simple, simple watercolors!).

I know there isn’t much art-talk in this post, but that’s okay. I’m writing to those of you reading this who can identity with these journal pages. To those who struggle. To those who overcome.

Tomorrow, I’ll broaden my gaze. But tonight, I want to give you all a hug and show you that you don’t have to let your circumstances or illness keep you from creating beauty in the world.