{a physical representation of goals -- a contract with yourself}

 

Hello my lovlies!

After years of going red, I'm a blond again. *G* Just enjoying my new, much lighter hair!

This is my contract with myself.

When we make agreements in writing, we're much more prone to follow them. They are physical proof of abstract promises, a daily reminder that, at one time, we were willing and excited about a goal. In those moments when we'd do anything to get out of this creative venture, we can turn to a contract, see the words written clearly on the page, and steel our resolve to do them, even when we don't want to. Even when we feel we don't have the time, or aren't feeling good. 

And accomplishing them isn't as difficult as it may sound. A ten minute break at work is enough time for me to get down 150 words. Waking up an hour early gives just enough time to paint a journal page or solder a pendant. These limited blocks of time give birth to greater accomplishment simply because they're shorter. There aren't hours stretching out before you, endless idle time to get things done. Outside forces are at work, holding a clock over your head -- get it done now because this is all you have.

These limits help reign in inspiration. Instead of sitting there waiting for it to strike, you command it, shape it to your liking. This doesn't mean you fake it, rather, you tell your muse or the divine that you are sitting down to work, ready to feel their graceful hand, and they can do the same. You're partners in this endeavor, and partners are there for each other.

And so, I've created two very simple goals. To do some sort of art each day, and to write 1000 words. I don't say work on a painting each day, or that the 1000 words have to be all of one thing, or just "serious" writing. I give leeway. I allow for oddities and the surprises of life. A full day can still give way to accomplishment -- a stolen photograph, scrawled words between customers or calls.

It is the intent that matters -- that you are trying your best, at any moment, to fulfill your contract. The more you do it, the easier it gets to jump right in during those stolen three minutes you have. And if you find yourself with a day or three of endless possibilities, you can jump in feet first instead of sticking a toe in the chilly water and needing time to get used to it. Dive in, call to your inspiration, and each day, word by word, drawing by drawing, you will achieve more than you could possibly imagine.

See? 500 words done. In 15 minutes, I'm halway there. Add to that the 150 during a break, and it doesn't seem so difficult after all.

{things i have learned: june 23 - july 3}

1. Smearing a bit of gesso over stick-on letters makes them look "aged" or "grunged." This is an improvement, since their stark blackness made me not want to use them in my artwork. Now, I can finally use the sheets and sheets I have hanging around the studio!

2. It is July! What does July mean to you? I think of hot summer days, water wars as a child, juicy watermellon, smelling like chlorine from swimming too much, hanging out with friends, road trips, old commutes with no air conditioning, the opressive heat of a Chicago summer, the Taste!, fireworks, sparklers, and the 4th. I think I'll journal all about that on this journal page.

3. Endings are sad. A piece I've been working on is nearly finished, and I'm sad to see the end. When I started, I used my standard "write 1000 words a day!" ploy to keep me going even when I was dead tired. But now, it's less about getting the standard day's words out and more about writing the final list of scenes down. Three remain. The entire thing's topping off at 30,000 words; and no, it's not art related. If you've managed to find my LiveJournal, I'm pretty sure you know what it's about. ;) Yay for re-writes, though!

4. I love sewing onto canvas! This is my second painting with buttons sewn on, but now, I'm sewing the thicker pieces to the canvas! I don't know where this came from, but I want to stitch, stitch, stitch! I have to run out and get some more embroidery thread, as my stash has been used up and I need new colors!8"x8" mixed-media on canvas. available.

5. My journal pages kill pens. I have purchased a disposable fountain pen to see if that will work on the pages. If not, I have been writing with pencil lately and it's not all that bad!

6. I meet the best people through blogging and creating videos. An email I recieved a few days ago has lead to a conversation that is helping to boost my confidance about possibly authoring a book. This is a topic I know nothing about; must do some research this week.

{getting words onto the page}

Last week, Zom wrote a brave and honest blog entry about journaling in journals -- rather:

What is it about Journal Pages that make us so lecturing? I love looking at art journal pages online, but sometimes I get a little annoyed at being told to: Inspire, Create, LOVE, Dream, Follow your Dreams, Discover and so on. And then there are the quotes, the preachy one liners that sound like greeting cards. Did we get this stuff from the scrapbookers, or are we afraid to write our own stuff? Afraid that we won't be profound enough? Or maybe we feel like complaining, but think that isn't done in an art journal.

Her words convey something I've felt in my own journals for awhile, that I became so focused on the art I was creating, I let the journaling fall to the wayside. I feel calmer when I actually do morning pages, letting those insecure thoughts spill out onto the page; I feel like that's more ME than anything I can throw on a canvas or create in a bound journal. Despite all I've learned over the last handful of years about expression through art, words still define my life. Language is a human concept, a gift from the Divine, and, I believe, belongs on the page just as much as the paint and images and so-on. I have to admit, my pages began to sport quotes I made up and maybe a little bit of writing, mostly inspiring, just because I knew I'd be posting some of them online. I offer this idea as the roll this online community we've created plays in our art:

Reactivity is a phenomenon that occurs when individuals alter their performance or behavior due to the awareness that they are being observed. The change may be positive or negative, and depends on the situation.

Think about that! By the very nature of participating in said online community, of observing even if only to learn and not comment, changes our very behavior, whether it is intentional or not. Notice the part positive or negative; it is not that said community is ruining our art, only that things change because of it. I believe it is a stage we must all go through when we begin our journeys. That, in our quest to learn more and seek inspiration, we must become exposed to the work of others, and allow it to meld with our own ideas, techniques, and sensibilities; in other words, everything you see and experience becomes part of you. And Zom here is saying that we need to get back to the you -- the everyday, ordinary-yet-extraordinary you. That we can't stay in that stage when we're trying to impress the observers because we know we ourselves are being observed -- yes, we will still be effected no matter what (conscious efforts to stem the effect will have no effect by the very fact that it is largely unconscious), but we need to be brave enough to show our soft underbellies to the world in order to mend it. One of the reasons I feel Sabrina Ward Harrison's work captivates and touches us all is because of the raw nature of those pages -- that we read those thoughts we have but never voice, and -- amazing! -- she's willing to let us see her vulnerabilities. We must too take the same steps and come full-circle back to the journaling part of art journaling. Yes, colors, images, drawings, even doodles help unlock the depths of our unconscious, but sometimes, getting things out can be just as cathartic. I've taken to journaling during breaks on work, while watching movies, or for five minutes before bed. Just thoughts bubbling up in my head, little things that we normally let flow through our minds and fade into the background. Get them out. Let us revel in our shared imperfections and see, once and for all, that we're not alone.

{ planning, moving, blooming, creating }

Sorry about spazzing out on y'all! I'll post into Saturday to make up for missing yesterday!

Things are changing here in KiraLand. Rooms are being sorted down into boxes, garbage bags, and sale piles, plans are being made, books are being collected. My studio is no exception; I’m down to the bare minimum when it comes to supplies, many things being sold off (anything not used for the last 6 months), the rest now in plastic storage containers or re-purposed boxes from work. The only thing about planning a move is the planning part -- I want to be finished! There! Scoping out storefronts for my new used-bookstore/cafe/art shop! Finding bookcases and filling them with decades of books, ordering art journal supplies wholesale, teaching classes, hosting poetry & prose nights. We’ve been brainstorming names; my favorite so far is ‘Book Friends.’ I giggle with delight when I think about the layout of our store, the possibilities waiting there. I just hope there are art journalers out there in New Mexico! *waves* I’m so restless....straddling two worlds -- the one I know, and the one I’m going to create. Yes, my finances are a mess, and starting a business is hard work, but when the idea was suggested by my mother, I felt this blossoming in my chest -- this whisper -- “This is what you’re supposed to do next.” With such a change on the horizon, my creativity has been charged -- and far-reaching. I’ve been working on a new summer workshop, planning out and writing lessons, drafting up video companions when necessary. I still don’t know how I’ll be teaching -- many people use blogs these days? Is that better than a mailing list? Any suggestions from those who have taken online classes would be great, as I haven’t taken any myself.

* you can see some of the lesson topics, there! A few weeks ago, Kelly Kilmer did a great post on the pens she uses, and I was captivated by the Pilot Latte pens. Ooo! Such great colors and the ink is fantastic -- works on dark paper, plastics, and, well, normally! The colors are amazing, fun, bright! And you can’t help but smile when you look at them! Heee! And an added bonus -- I found refills for my mechanical pencil I bought over in Japan a few years ago. Until now, I’ve either carried a separate eraser or cut one down with a craft knife....can’t tell you how happy I was to see JetPen carried the refills. Heck, I didn’t even know they existed!

Tomorrow, I’ll show you the stamps I’ve carved for myself. I totally got into that and can’t wait to share ‘em and my process. They’re a delight to use in my journal! love, kira

{ something important to say }

This is what I learned: that everybody is talented, original and has something important to say. Brenda Ueland

As part of my new blog vision, I'm rolling out a few new posts/features you'll be seeing around here. By now, you've probably realized I'll be posting a LOT more -- daily through the week -- with more journal pages, step-by-step instructions, and fun links. I'm also going back to providing downloadable resources each week, some as pages, or "homework" assignments, or wallpapers. All things you're meant to PRINT and view and use to help you out.

One of the reasons I held back was that I wanted to make money off my journaling and lessons. I wanted to get everything together into one book or download or class, and then sell that. But within the last few months, I realized that isn't going to happen. Not that it couldn't, but that I kept putting it off for a reason.

Creativity and excitement comes from a deep longing to create. The 'zine gets compiled when I have this yearning to print and publish. Journal pages flow out when I'm reflective or need to write something out. Paintings come from a desire to let loose on the canvas without the clutter of words. When you create because of a deep compulsion in your soul, everything comes easier, almost automatically -- Julia Cameron sees this flow as the Creator working through you, and I agree with her idea. Sometimes, it does feel as though it's not me that's working; my brain goes blank, my body begins to dance in the chair, and the brush moves like the pointer on a Ouija board.

When you're doing something you don't want to do, it doesn't flow. You procrastinate. Put it off. Decide it can wait. Now, this attitude happens with important things -- doctor's appointments, phone calls, etc -- and then you have to push through. But with creative ventures, you only end up hurting yourself. Every time I've fallen into a dry spell, it's because I was forcing myself to do things I didn't really want to do. When I decided to stop doing art for any kind of livelihood, my well filled and I couldn't stop creating. I even started painting, something I've struggled with before.

So I'm putting it all out there to do so. Any time I receive a comment or email thanking me for my videos or tutorials or blog, I glow -- that is why I do all this. I could create and never go online, never post to a blog, and be happy. But something inside of me whispers, "Teach them," and I'm powerless to resist. One comment makes the time spent taking photos, scanning things, filming videos, etc completely and utterly worth it. That is why I was put on this Earth, lead to this path -- to give confidence, ideas, and inspiration to others. I can only hope to continue to do this for the rest of my life.

This summer's workshop will be by donation only. I will always post videos and tutorials. I will always answer your emails. And starting this week, I will always respond to your comments. I want to create a community of strong women artists unafraid to express themselves. Live without regrets and to your fullest. The quote above is true: we ALL have something unique to say, a talent no one else has, and have something important to share with the world.

When I sat down, I never intended to write this much, or decide this much -- when you allow yourself a moment to just WRITE, you surprise yourself with what your soul has to say. And this week's downloads are intended to help you do just that -- write in your journal without worrying about the art part. The following are two complete art journal pages just waiting for you to fill in the blanks. Click on the images to get the full-sized hi-res versions. Print them out. Write your heart out. Let me see what you come up with -- post images to the Journal Girl (formerly Page by Page) Flickr group and I'll come visit 'em!

as always,

love, kira

{ 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!

{ visual: nothing can compare to deserving your dreams }

I am a huge fan of Jem, a Welsh singer-songwriter that I'm sure you've heard before but haven't known. Her songs are about more than love and such as many are now -- they are life lessons or uplifting conversations between friends. This song in particular has me jumping around the studio  -- she is so right and the song helps to remind me to go for it. Then I saw this video -- her clothing, the fact that it was made entirely from photographs....she's a kindred soul. (Listen to this song after it -- it comes next on the CD and gives you strength when you begin to waver.) If anyone would like the mp3's, let me know. I'll be off dreaming of taffida dresses, glitter, and my own book signing (a big dream of mine!).

{ branching out, looking in }

I plunked my paintbrush into the dirty water and sat back in my chair, ready to admire my finished work. An avid art journaler, my forays onto the canvas have been limited to a few illustrations that -- and I freely admit this -- weren't very good or real or held any sort of technique and a couple of journal-pages-on-canvas experiments. Disheartened by any lack of interest in my paintings (that is, only two were bought on Etsy, the rest have be left to expire), I abandoned the notion and ran back into the relative safety of my journals. There, I could make a mess, make mistakes, and it didn't matter. My journals are safe. I don't "waste" a canvas with a journal page, don't feel the pressure to create something "better" than usual.

Last week, I made one of those little steps of courage and joined the local art league. While I'd known about it for the past year, I never felt like I was an "artist." In my mind, I'd created this group of people and given them attributes -- first, they were all "real" artists, second, they probably went to art school or something like that. The website posted about shows and installations and galleries, and here I was, playing with paint in a journal. Yes, art journals and folk art are rampant on the internet and in magazines, but is it really all that popular outside our safe little circles? So, I was afraid and didn't join. Every few months, I'd think about attending a meeting, of joining, but then that little voice would come back on and I'd go back to my journals.

But this year, I joined. I marched in clutching my check and membership form and handed it over. Wrote my name in big black letters -- Samie. Mingled. Looked at books. One of the monthly events is the art competition, where members are invited to bring pieces and display them; I'd known about this but was way too shy to bring anything. Plus, I didn't really HAVE anything to bring.

Looking over these pieces, I groaned to myself. "Oh, GOD," I said internally, "these people are good." The paintings were beautiful. Done with oils or watercolors. Portraits and still-life's and one abstract. Amazing. No bright colors or funky collages. No sparkles or illustrations. Nadda. No messes or flowing prose. Nothing, that is, anything like anything I'd ever create.

Chatting with the girl next to me, I discovered it was her first meeting, too. She was the creator of the single abstract, a graduate of the Art Institute (that is, the Art Institute of Chicago's art school), and soon-to-be mom. We gabbed over supplies and life and the demonstration. But I felt like a fake. When she asked me where I went to school, I shyly said, "Columbia Collage [Chicago], but not for art. I have a television degree and plan on moving back to California soon."

"So you're going to be leaving us," she remarked.

Looking back on it now, I guess I wasn't so much of an outsider as I thought. I was, however, the youngest person in the room.

This gave me a great idea: maybe I was there to teach these people something.

I ran home with new inspiration and a lofty goal -- do four paintings by the next meeting and bring one in for the little competition. No, I won't win. It won't even be close. But I will be bringing something new, something fresh, bright, colorful, and different. And even if they don't like it, at least that's a reaction. Because maybe one person WILL (such as my new acquaintance, who told me she felt lonely being the only abstract -- it was beautiful and expressive, though!).

Back to my painting. Sitting back in the harsh overhead light of my ceiling fan, my only source of illumination this late at night, I found myself frowning. I'd labored long and hard over the shading of the face and hair, and was proud of myself for all I'd done without an ounce of instruction. But in my glee to finish, I'd inadvertently shaded the girl's shirt royal blue, pulling the natural focus of the painting from the girl's face to the bland and poorly-shaded shirt (as I have no idea how to do that!). The background was lovely. Fun. Bright. With sparkles.

Abigale is sitting on my shelves in my recently-finished-work place of honor. If Amelia is any indication, she'll be on my floor buried in supplies and paper scraps in a week (poor Amelia is still available on Etsy, but I have little hope she'll sell despite how much I like her). At least I finished it, right? Don't I have to make paintings in order to make better ones?

I'm working on a new one -- Victoria -- based on a drawing in my journal. I love how my journal has been evolving...I've stuck with it longer than I've stayed in any single journal for two years....and love paging through it, looking at the other pages. I can see an evolution, from the beginning pages to where I am now, and I can see all these changes, this growth, these new material uses and experiments. I'm even considering creating a new art journal workshop based on what I've learned so far.

Looking over the painting-in-progress, I'm scared. What am I doing? I'm no painter! I can do journals, sure, but paintings? Who am I kidding? Why am I even trying? I've never taken a painting class, I have no idea what I'm doing. All those people at the art league will laugh at me. Look at that amateur painting! Ha ha ha! What a joke!

I love my journals. I love working in them, teaching others, experimenting, learning, creating. But you can't hang those on a wall. I can't exhibit those in galleries. How do I work around this? There HAS to be a way!

I'm going to find it. I have to. My journals are my passion. I want to teach them SO BAD! How do you do this? How can I? I'd love to go to art retreats...like ArtFest and Art&Soul, but I have NO MONEY to go to anything. What is a girl to do?

Paint. Finish. Journal.

I had pictures, but I picked up the cord to connect my camera to the computer...and found that one of the dogs had chewed off the connector. Must figure something out!