{being brave through the darkest days}

I don't have time to do a video -- I work over the weekend, and didn't want to wait until next week to post some fun. I haven't given you any tutorials or such in awhile, and feel like it's time.

I've seen my style change so much in the last few months; it's morphed into a true outpouring of myself. I used to worry and obsess over this: I'd ask people if they knew a piece was mine just by looking at it. Looking over pages, I couldn't see any cohesiveness that connected one to the next, showed off "me." Instead, I saw disconnected pieces, the mark of someone going through that "dark period" of discovery.

You may not know it yet, or perhaps you're in the throws. It is that time between copying those you like and emerging as your true self. When you know you want to go somewhere authentic, but don't know exactly where that is. If only I could draw you a map -- alas, each journey is different.

You will be tempted to fall back into old habits, to stare at the art you love and copy it. But you'll find it doesn't thrill you as it once did. You've moved past it, and looking behind you won't do you any good.

Bravery is required -- this is the stage that makes or breaks an artist. It will be hard. Challenging. You will create art for days that you hate. And you may decide to throw in the towel and shove your journal under a mattress.

And one day, you'll notice a hole in your life. You'll walk around feeling empty, lost. And won't know what it is. So you'll peek under that mattress, and -- behold! The journal waited for you. Patient and loving, the journal will always be there for you in those times of need -- both joyful and sad.

Working through this stage, you'll find yourself. You'll find not only what you can create and offer to the world -- you'll figure out who YOU are inside. You will come out a complete, authentic person. It just takes time.

I've been art journaling for 5 years, and only in the last few months have I truly loved most of the pages I create. I am finally making the art I have always been destined to make. It is a journey, my friends, and we are all on it.

{artistic studies in journal #10}

Things here in Kira!Land have come to a head; stressful situations drive me from the house, which means less time on the computer to update or in the studio to paint (my journal, however, loves being sketched in). So please accept my apologies for not staying on schedule or filming any vids lately. Hopefully, after next week, things will get back on track.

For this week, allow me to give you a peek into Journal #10 (and yes, I am STILL pulling numbers from thin air). This, if you remember, is the spiral one I wrote about....last week?

Shall we venture inside?

When I started, I just wanted to collage a whole bunch of papers together, then work on top of them. I haven't been painting as much lately, which means less drawing. The journals I seem drawn to are those that aren't “planned,” that is, a collage of images in the back, then added titles and writing. I want mess – rather, I'm in a mess and feel the need to throw it onto the page.

Through all of the papers, you can barely see the paint. I remembered doing something like this on a previous journal page, a fluke, if you look at my style, and wanted to do that again. Just escape into cutting and gluing and making a general mess of the page.

Now that I think about it, that seems to be my theory for life. I write quite a bit, and instead of worrying about creating something wonderful or poetic, I am to make a complete mess (my journal name over on LiveJournal, the blog I've had for about 8 years, is A Beautiful Disaster). Just chuck whatever you can at it. AIM to create the worst mess you possibly can. Let go of rules. Just do it.

There are two reasons why this works:

1. You get things down onto the page.
2. It usually turns out a lot better than you originally thought it would.

  See the page above. I just continued to layer papers and paint until I threw some white over it to write on, and voila! I actually really love the page. The layers and method capture how I was feeling – insecure, unsure, uncomfortable (new journals tend to do that to me) – more than the writing. That is, I can read the writing, but FEEL the page under my hands.

But then I wandered to Roben-Marie's blog and saw all the fun she was having with stencils and spray paint, and remembered how much fun I had with spray paint. Mine have gone missing (aka buried in the garage under packed boxes), so I bought a few new colors, pulled out my old stencils, and had a bit of fun....

...and realized how POORLY I take care of my stencils.

Most of them are die-cut scrapbooking papers, and, after being stuck together and pulled apart so many times, are in pieces. Literally. I had a piece I was using on the pages. While the decay is beautiful, I need some new ones that aren't folded/ripped/covered in paint.

But then I did something new: I painted over the stencils with gesso (after letting them dry in a well-ventilated area overnight). Err, rather, tried to in the studio after opening the window and turning the fan on high; fume headaches are NOT fun.

(Learn from my mistakes!)

This is what came out:

Before you say anything: all things are fine. I embellished a bit because I was emotional. This may give you a bit of insight as to what's happening here.

For an example of this new hybrid of styles, here's a page I haven't journaled on yet:

I'm in love.

Don't you just love when that happens?

{in which kira discovers new brushes, writing in ink, & other things}

Did'ya miss me? *G* I missed you!

This week was my "vacation." If you've ever worked retail, you know that getting 3 days off in a row is very, very rare, but somehow, I managed! And got paid for one of them! So I spent my vacation at home playing in the studio, writing, and just lazing around on the couch! How wonderfully fantastic...

But now I am back and ready to go!

On Friday, I finally caved and bought nice, expensive brushes.

For the last four years or so, I've been getting by on value brush sets and $3 single ones from craft stores. You know, the ones with the plastic handles? Well, I always got the ones with nice grips and stuff. Oh! And takkon, because that's my favorite.

ANYWAY, I went to Michael's on Friday and bought NICE brushes. That were about $8 or $9 EACH. It cost a pretty penny, and I was skeptical -- they LOOKED the same, and were by the same company, so why were they so expensive? Was there REALLY a difference?

I sat down and started playing around with them, not really seeing a difference. But it was fun none-the-less because whee! Journaling is ALWAYS exciting and fun. Right? *G*

I had this painting I'd started a few weeks ago sitting next to me, and looking at it, I just...didn't feel it. It had been sitting there for so long precisely because of that, and I KNEW it was meant to BE something, just was a bit bored with the same ol' drawn ink girls.

I put on some loud, funky music, opened the new colors I grabbed at the same time as the brushes (because who can go into Michael's and come out with JUST what they went in there for?), and just SPILLED them onto the canvas.

Over the things I'd drawn. The papers collaged. EVERYTHING. Covered it all. And then just started drawing with the paint and mixing on the canvas, completely and totally lost in the act of CREATION.

When I finished, I went downstairs with the canvas and said:

"This is completly different than anything I've ever done before, and I don't know where it came from, but I love it."

And showed it to everyone there.

(I'm really bad at taking photos of paintings for some reason...)

It is SO DIFFERENT. But I love it. It looks FABULOUS hanging on the wall downstairs...it's the first thing I see when I come home or go downstairs, and it makes me SMILE. Isn't that what art's all about?

It didn't have text on it yet, though, and I was playing around in my journal with my sumi-e ink and the small brush -- the new, expensive one.

OH MY GOD!

THEY MAKE ALL THE DIFFERENCE!

Usually, it would take a LOT of patience to write with ink. The brush usually separated a bit, creating whisp-aways, you know, those one or two bristles that don't conform to the shape anymore? So my words would have these little outlying lines and I'd have to twist the brush a certain way to avoid them, and things didn't flow all that well....etc, etc.

With these nicer brushes, it FLOWS. The brush follows intricate twists and turns and works BEAUTIFULLY. As you can see from all these journal pages, I wrote on every page I could find, as well as the painting. I LOVE IT.

I can't help it -- I want to write everywhere and everything now. I can't wait to continue painting with these nice brushes, discovering new things!

I also have made more changes in my life, aesthetically (see list above - click for full size).

I've noticed, at least at work, that because I act childlike and innocent, finding joy in the smallest things, dancing around, grinning and playing, that I'm treated like a child. Why is that? I'm a grown woman who has lived through a LOT: abuse (no worries, not parental), a cancer scare (binine tumor), chronic illness, having to care for a sick mother (and raise my brother), financial matters -- basically having to do a lot on my own. I've traveled the world, navigated the Social Security system, made appointments, travel arrangements, even moved across the country (only to return). I am a mature, intelligent woman who chooses to celebrate life rather than strive to control it.

I wear my heart on my sleeve. Call everyone sweetie or hun or sweetheart. I am there to support and love. And yet, I find that these attributes scream immature to some people. Yes, I can be serious when the situation warrants it. I can take care of things in a crisis. I think on my feet, and quickly. I am decisive. Opinionated.

I feel as though something is shifting, a sliding of plates covering the Child and exposing the Adult. Not necessarily replacing, but incorporating. Is it too much to ask to be respected? Treated as an equal?

My artwork IS whimsical, something which "established" artists seem to look down on, with their complicated oil paintings or realistic scenes of daily life.

Why are we all so scared of the childlike?

I don't know where this tangant came from; sometimes it helps to just write things out. I wish I could spread my joy to everyone, but some people seem to be so focused on CONTROL, they can't except that life is RANDOM and here to be enjoyed. A precious gift.

Ah, well. I shall be me. Because it's too exhausting to be anyone else. ;)

love, kira

{ spring is a breath of fresh air }

FINALLY! The weather has turned nice and I've packed everything into my nifty cute Amy Butler tote and moved out into the grass and warm spring sunlight. It was like a breath of fresh air; months and months of staying inside, of the cold and the snow and layers and layers of sweaters, I was finally able to throw on a tank top, grab my supplies, and get OUT!

The best part is that I can start using spray paint again. I tried it once over the winter and OH MY, I couldn't breathe in the studio for HOURS...I had to run away and wait for the smell to clear out. O.o I don't have a mask or area to really work with it indoors, so I've been using paint with my stencils. No more!

I have a roll of wallpaper I grabbed for $3 at Big Lots, and used that to protect the grass from the spray. I plan on using it for awhile, then cutting it up for scrap papers to use in my journal....except it rained today and I left it under the table! Oops! Good thing there's a whole roll of it!

But I DID find out many of my paints are "missing" in the garage. We've been collecting things to sell this summer in a mega we're-about-to-move garage sale, so there is just STUFF out there in piles, and I can't even BEGIN to start looking for stuff. I guess that means a trip to Wal-Mart is in order...I can't survive on just 3 colors (plus black and white)!

I also grabbed some doilies from Jo Anne Fabrics to use...it's AWESOME! The patterns are amazing. Next, I'm going to drop the $4 for a sheet of die cut scrapbooking paper I like -- that's what's up there in the picture. They're fun and cheap stencils in comparison to the larger ones you'll find at craft stores. There aren't many available just yet, but they're great for general backgrounds and layering.

{ Check out this post and this tutorial if you've never worked with spray paint in your journal. }

While out, I saw this little pad of thick, thick vellum for, like, $2, and thought, "Wow, that'd be great to use to practice drawing girls' faces." Because that's what I enjoy the most right now...drawing these faces. Yes, everyone's doing it, and I should do something original, but I LIKE doing this. I wire-bound it at the top and am practicing by drawing my co-workers during breaks. Hehe. I'm not all that good at drawing specific people...but that's what practice is for, right? Plus, the pad's a great mini-journal for when you don't want to carry a big bag around. Like on bright summer days!

I KNOW I owe y'all a video...it's on my laptop waiting to be edited. But my mouse has gone, so I'm turning my broken little laptop into a desktop so I CAN edit it. GRR!! I LOVE editing and really want to get this video out...I think you'll like it!

{ new discoveries: breaking established thought patterns & freeing your creativity }

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="journal spread; girl inspired by a painting by britt hermann"][/caption]

I must apologize -- I've been holding out on you.

After snapping and editing photos taken during my lunch break today (at 8:30am!), I count 12 or so pages I haven't yet shared with you. The reason is simple -- I stopped creating to jump up and share and just...had fun. I've been making more and more messes lately, trying to branch out and create more than flat, 2-D pieces.

I live on the floor, now.

The tables around me create the feeling of living in a hole, creating art in a secret, seculded place. I've always been the oposite of clastaphobic; at a friend's sleep over party in a hotel room, my spot was stretched out under the small wooden desk. Sheet forts dominated my bedroom. There's something magical about a small spot. You are protected. Contained. It is easy to forget about the outside world when in such a space, easy to pretend you're in a magical world. A princess in a tower. An explorer in the hull of a ship.

I like to see myself as a rogue artist living in a small apartment in an imaginary city, in a house full of other artistic types. We live on the outside edges of society and use what we can find. There's no thought given to the rules of society, of how things are supposed to be done.

These imaginings free me. Moving from my table to the floor removes all those rules my mother taught me, about not getting paint on the table, or getting things all over the place, or splotching and spraying.

"You'll ruin the table! The floor! Oh, my, look at how you've spilled on the paper! Use a paintbrush, not your hands! Kira, Kira, don't make a mess!" cries the Mom-voice in my head.

So I moved to the floor, on a small circle mat used for a chair on carpeting. Cheap. Replaceable. And easy to clean! Down there, in my magical spot, I can get watercolors all over the place, throw pages around. Sqirt paint from a tiny bottle on anything I want. Cut papers with abandon, and use them to soak up the pools of paint all over the place!

Stop thinking about where to put things, or if it'll be "ruined."

Yes, there is stress in the first steps, but it DOES help to remove yourself from these places we're used to treating a certain way.

If the weather allows, I recommend packing up your supplies and moving outside.

For some reason, it's easier for us to make messes in the grass, where no one will see, were it's already "messy" because of nature. You can throw paint across your backyard if you want to!

Here's the "finished" background, or, rather, the point I stopped at. In the next few days, it'll be covered with doodles, drawings, words, and photos. In letting go, I've created something I've always wanted to, something that makes me smile -- that I want to hang and preserve and continue on. And it all came from

removing myself from an established pattern of thinking.

I found this plain black messenger bag at a thrift shop and spiced it up with some fabric and my favorite phrase of all time:

be free

Take it where you will. Just remember to do it, in every moment of the day, with all your endevors. Free yourself from thought patterns, society's rules and restrictions, from the boundaries you put on yourself. Just free yourself.

{ I'll be posting the pages on the Journal Girl ML daily as part of my new initive of creating everyday. Check it out if you haven't already. My mini "this is how I did this page" fun starts tomorrow! }

{ sideshow: questions, no answers, teenage-like art stage? }

It must be the love of psychology that keeps me comparing the stages of things to that of a developing human. Nothing interests me more than the way the human mind works, from computations to the construction of abstract ideas. I can feel a piece of paper under my fingers and visualize what will be put on there later at the same time, with little difficulty; art has allowed my mind to stretch and grow in ways I never thought possible. Learning art was my Childhood Stage: I saw, loved, and copied. Colored inside the lines, experimented with new materials, found the "masters" and emulated their work. Read everything I could. I was a foreigner who didn't even know the language -- luckly, Childhood is when things are the easiest to learn and remember, and soon, I was saying 'gesso' right (I STILL get comments about that mispronunciation in my first video!). I then entered Middle Childhood. Feeling somewhat confidant, I began branching off on my own, going farther with my ideas, experiments, and ideas. I took what I'd learned in Childhood and began transforming it into my own works. Found the colors I liked, the materials I liked, and began liking my work. Read everything I could get my hands on, trying to gleam some inspiration from the artists I admired. We all know what comes next, though -- Adolescence. *shutters* Being a teenager is an ackward, uncertain time when you begin questioning everything, wonder what you're even doing or if you should be doing it in the first place, and feel changes happening under the surface that, well, make you feel really hinky. You either throw yourself into your studies or find the darker things in life. Things are bubbling, boiling, and you're quicker to anger when things don't work the way you want. While, as an artist, I don't have any parents to rebel against, I do have myself. For example: last night, I got the grand idea that I'd use the 12"x12" squares of cardstock I had laying around as surfaces for paintings -- I've been having fun in my journal, and thought I could transport that magic outside the bound pages. So, today, I sat in the studio, turned up my iPod, and started painting. It looked great. And then, I kept going, and going, and BAM -- I could feel the teenager inside me screaming and crying, telling me to destroy it. "No, I can't do that," Older Me told her, "It is valuble in it's imperfections. It shows us what we don't like." "But we know what we DO like," she shouted back. "Why can't we just go back to that? To the way it was?" "Because how will we grow?" I said. "I was getting bored with acrylics and paintbrushes and drawings." "Then pull out the magazines," Teenage Kira advised. "You thought you were being all smart, deciding to not use them, but you really do like them sometimes." So I did. And made some awesome pages. Teenage Kira gloated in the corner, with her dark hair and black lipstick. "See, I told you." "We still can't destroy the piece. Learn from it. At least we did something today that was different. That hasn't been done before. Isn't that what we want?" "What YOU want," she shot back. "I like the norm." "And I don't want to be the norm. I want to express myself. I want to discover more." So we compromised. I'll be using only watercolors and pull out the magazine images and such. Let's see how it goes. Having a teenager is tough! But tougher when it's you!

{day 50: zine changes, journal #6, & everyday magic}

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="playing with sumi-e ink on layered pages"][/caption]

Days have been spent working in my journal. Being bound the Easy-Peasy way, I have 2 clear "section" where the gap stands between signatures: one is for beautiful art, paint, and flowing ink; the other, for words. For ages, I've written that I want to write more, and even made it one of my new year's goals. Lately, the words have begun to flow from me just as easily as paint and ideas. I have new faith in myself and my path. Fatigue and problems and drama had me doubting myself, questioning if art and journaling would simply be a hobby, or if it would grow to something more.

I think it is. Always growing, my seed has become a tiny sapling.

Changes @ Page by Page

I'd like to announce the addition of the wonderful and amazingly-knowlegeable Dawn Sokol as my co-pilot on the adventure of Page by Page. This came after some deep contimplation on my part and a moment of sarendipity when we realized we both wanted to do the same things.

Partnering with her will help keep me on-target and allow us to publish more than one issue a year! The outlines are already in place: please let us know if you have any suggestions or would like to submit something -- this is truely a community effort.

Journal #6

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="381" caption="the new journal's cover page"][/caption]

Odd thing is, there is no journal #5!

I thought this was #6 of the completed journals, but found out later it isn't. Oh, well! I created this one the Easy-Peasy way, not wanting to take the time to do a proper hardcover binding -- I wanted a new journal to work in right away! Call me impatient, but this is a great step for me, as I used to fret if there were any imperfection in my work and journals. Yes, the signatures are a bit loose, and the cover paper is peeling off, and the paper's all different sizes, but I adore it for it's imperfections. Celebrate the things that make you uneasy -- they are blessings in disguise. Rather than write here about the major changes in my life, here are the journal pages dealing with them. Click for larger versions @flickr.

Everyday Magic

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="bare feet, twirling skirt, and my new magic wand"][/caption] I think my father thought me mad when I squeeled in delight and rushed to grab this magic wand. Grinning, I asked him which I should get, and he chose this one -- blue and sparkly. Nothing like a 25 year old woman (as of Tuesday -- I can't wait for cake!) bouncing up and down because of a cheap wand. But I realized I need more magic in my life. So many moments of sarendipity have happened in the last week that I can't help but see magic everywhere.

Serendipity is the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate, especially while looking for something else entirely.

I use this word because I don't believe in coincidences, I believe in Fate. And isn't it just a beautiful word? Try saying it to yourself a few times over. Serendipity. Serendipity. Serendipity. I felt more alive, creative, and artful dancing around my studio with my new wand by candlelight than I have in the last few days of repetitive-feeling journal pages. Try doing something completly different, outside your normal experiance, in order to find your hidden creativity.

More to come...

I know I said this before, but I have more up my sleeve. I've begun writing a series of essays, or "chapters," on some new things I've discovered that has reinvigorated my creative life and journaling experiance. And since it's already written, I can say you won't be waiting 16 days for the next post from me!

Until next time, remember, you are loved and perfect exactly how you are. And I give you permission to:

a quest made by walking

"Walking opens us up. It feeds us. Image by image, it spoons up for us a broth or soup of soul food, which sustains us as we do the work necessary to shape and reshape our lives."
-- Julia Cameron, Vein of Gold

I'm becoming addicted to walking.

What started as a lark, a way to spend an afternoon and try my hand at taking pictures, has turned into a craving, a simple, stubborn need to get out there where the sky is blue, the grass is green and uncut, and walk. I am powerless against it, now bending to its will.

This may all seem nice and normal, but for me, it's been a struggle to get to this place. For the last four years or so, my various physical ailments have largely held me back from living a somewhat normal life. Constantly tired, needing naps in the afternoon, not being able to stay out late -- these things turned day and night into nothing more than a stage play I caught bits of between bouts of sleep. When awake, pains kept me immobile. For awhile, in the darker days, I rarely walked anywhere; I became trapped in my own house.

If you want proof of the healing powers of art, here I am. Art, joy, creativity, personal exploration -- I have been digging for four years, often through tears, to find a solution, a "fix." That magic solution that would heal all my woes. Nothing came easily, but now, for the first time, as I sit here, ready to go for my walk, I feel fantastic. Yes, I still have pain. But it's so small....we've become friends over the years, and I feel that we've reached an understanding.

*laughs* This post is going somewhere different than I planned. These things happen!

This will be my 102nd post on this blog. That's quite an accomplishment! And I need to say this: that having this blog, putting my art and words out there, meeting amazing people -- this has contributed greatly to my newfound health and happiness. Each one of you have given me a precious gift that I won't squander or waste. I am just so thankful. When I started, I had no idea how far I'd go....and look where i am! It shocks and amazes me every day, and sometimes, I feel like pinching myself.

I had dreams, back in college. Not one has come true. Perhaps what they say is true, that you never know what you need, only what you want. I think the biggest thing I've gotten back is FAITH. I'd lost it so long ago....to have it back....WOW!

*G*

I've a huge stack of papers, here, articles and art for the next issue of the 'zine. And the weather's beautiful outside. I believe a walk is in order. I leave you with images from Sunday's walk, all taken with my Polaroid camera.