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A lot of talk on blocks, liking and disliking pages, and creativity. I started a page, but then we got to talking, and I'll post the finished page tomorrow.
Please email me if you have questions or need someone to bounce an idea off of! And leave a comment here if you'd like to see something discussed on the vlog.
Next week: Carving your own stamps.
Get your supplies together and we'll explore stamp-carving!
+ My Art Saves story is up at Crescendoh this week. Writing this story was a liberating experience and explains how I got started with art & art journaling.
+ I'm teaching this Thursday at Hannah's Home Accents in Antioch, IL from 6-9. What, exactly? Read on!
+ My long-awaited Etsy shop is reopening by the end of the week. Journals, collage books, jewelry, journaling bits, prints, & paintings! All waiting to find great homes!
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Have you ever had an idea so clear in your head, you were convinced you’d be able to make it, no problem? That, through your dream, you downloaded the instructions and way to manipulate the material in just the right way?
And then, have you sat down with everything, gotten through the easy part, and then everything comes to a screeching halt?
Yes. Me, too.
When I originally conceived the project and class above, I was convinced I’d be able to make the flowers I wanted, by folding over painted canvas and sewing through a button to the canvas. It would be amazing. And each person I told this idea to was equally excited.
Since my studio removes me from the atmosphere and materials available to me in planning a class, I brought only my favorite supplies to the shop to work at one of the workshop tables. There is, in the back of this shop, an amazing little alcove created by a moveable aisle. I compare it to a candy shop. It is the magical place we all wish we had in our closets, our studios: vintage wall paper, ribbon, trim, patterns, every ink pad, mist, paint, stamp you could imagine. Papers and patterns and items and dimension dots and magic.
And this is the place I was encouraged to pull from.
I discovered Glimmer Mists by Tattered Angels and thought, “This is a great alternative to spray paint when you can’t get outside!” Sparkly and colorful, I grabbed a basket of them and went to work, spraying over stencils and papers and bits pulled from the shelves. If you’ve ever worked with spray and stencils, you know how fun this is. And sparkles! Who doesn’t like sparkles!
But when it got to the construction of the flowers themselves, well...
I tried. I did it the way my dream had shown me, and it was too thick to sew through. And then it wasn’t popping off the canvas. I must have sat there with a pile of cut-up canvas for an hour -- I do know I was there much longer than I intended -- trying to figure things out.
And if it were for me, I would have moved on, used something else. But this was for others, and it was an idea I really, really, REALLY wanted to create.
When this happens, you need to keep going. You need to mutter to yourself, cut different sizes, try new ways of folding or maybe the folds weren’t right at all?
I found cute flower buttons I wanted in the center, and tried with my new petal system to sew throught the canvas.
Hard. Not doable.
The second flower had the bits taped to the canvas and the button sewn on.
Better. But not proper for class.
The third flower was created independent of the canvas and sewn together. Then, I knew dimensional dots existed, but where? And searching I went, through clear plastic drawers, to find what would be perfect.
Attaching the pre-made flower to the canvas with a dot, I finally achieved what I was looking for -- without even knowing it.
On Thursday, I’ll be teaching this technique to a group of creative & fun women. If you're in the area, why don't you join us?
Last night, needing to re-center, I took to the kitchen table with a basket of supplies, some papers, and a postal service envelope. Inspired by the videos of Traci Bautista I saw on Hannah's site, I grabbed a foam brush and began laying down papers.
There's something comforting in the mindless work of patchwork collage. In just letting the mind float high above the world, lingering, relaxing in a hammock made of air. Cut, glue, rip, glue, smooth, glue.
But doing it so publicly, that is, not in my studio, attracts attention. As I'm usually shrugged off, I was surprised to hear my brother say he's like to make a collage, too!
So we sat next to each other and continued. Except he wanted a certain shape. "I have to make something," he said, gluing it down, "that's what my teachers told me."
"Well, it's a lie," I told him. "We're just laying down paper. Don't worry about any of that, now."
"Why do you go against what teachers say?" he asked.
"Because I want to do what makes me happy," I replied.
And so we glued and tore and I could see how difficult it was for him to let go of what school and teachers had said and just let things happen. At so many points, I wanted to reach over and show him how to make it "better." But Kira, I told myself, maybe that's how he likes it.
Later on, when trying to figure out where a piece fit, he frowned. "I don't want to cover up the star. Maybe I shouldn't have done that first."
"Oh, well," I said. "Just cover it up. Never be afraid to cover something; you never know what good stuff may come from doing that."
So we collaged and then played with paint and wrote with Sharpies. At the end of the night, he had something he liked. Standing, he held it out, "I can't believe I made this."
"See? Isn't art relaxing?"
"I feel like I've accomplished something."
That is where we want to go, to that place of amazement, of seeing something beautiful come from our own hands and a pile of paper. That sense of accomplishing something wonderful -- not an item on our to-do lists or task at work, but something original and part of ourselves. Art brings us to such a place.
But the struggle, oh, the struggle! How I wished I could take those lessons from his head and let him play from the heart. A few years ago, I was offered a job teaching art to children after school, but upon seeing how they had to copy a picture, do exactly the same thing, with no freedom to go outside the lines, I declined. Why do we have to teach children this way? What happened to wild abandon?
This all reminds me of a song by Harry Chapin. Think on this when you feel blocked, when you feel those lines -- lines you MUST break free of.
The little boy went first day of school
He got some crayons and started to draw
He put colors all over the paper
For colors was what he saw
And the teacher said.. What you doin' young man
I'm paintin' flowers he said
She said... It's not the time for art young man
And anyway flowers are green and red
There's a time for everything young man
And a way it should be done
You've got to show concern for everyone else
For you're not the only one
And she said...
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen
But the little boy said...
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one
Well the teacher said.. You're sassy
There's ways that things should be
And you'll paint flowers the way they are
So repeat after me.....
And she said...
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen
But the little boy said...
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one
The teacher put him in a corner
She said.. It's for your own good..
And you won't come out 'til you get it right
And all responding like you should
Well finally he got lonely
Frightened thoughts filled his head
And he went up to the teacher
And this is what he said.. and he said
Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen
Time went by like it always does
And they moved to another town
And the little boy went to another school
And this is what he found
The teacher there was smilin'
She said...Painting should be fun
And there are so many colors in a flower
So let's use every one
But that little boy painted flowers
In neat rows of green and red
And when the teacher asked him why
This is what he said.. and he said
Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen.
I believe in you. You can do it, and create beautiful, wonderful, amazing flowers. I give you permission to do so, to create whatever makes you happy, no matter how "wrong" it may be.
Instead of misheard, maybe it's what we need to hear at the moment. The words to inspire or get things moving.
The base for this painting sat untouched for a week (which isn't a record; another base has been sitting untouched for a month, waiting for the right moment) until I misheard some lyrics. I jumped up from my desk, grabbed the ink, and wrote out what I heard, an idea already forming in my head.
What I love is how the girls look. While I've been using other drawings as a guide for awhile (that's how I learn, btw, by copying and internalizing and using guides), I decided to let it go and do my own thing. I have always worried about my people looking "right." What a load of crap! Look at the Simpsons, or Family Guy, or any other animated show. Do those people look "right?" Of course not! They are what the original animator decided looked right to THEM!
So I did my own thing. And wow...years of reading manga have really influenced me, huh! The middle girl even looks like a girl I work with. It was just such a cool process.
And okay, okay, I'm writing again. Things have been so up in the air with this medication change that I'm so behind! I'm aiming for 30,000 words at this point....and think I can do it! Going to explore what I discovered while doing this painting today before more journaling, then off to the junkyard for some parts....I can be girly when I want, but I also can do work on my own car!
Thank you for the push to keep at it. I really appreciate it, and probably would have quit if not for all you. Love you tons!
Yesterday, I got really, REALLY pumped up to do art, and was bouncing around the studio with a paintbrush in my hand. I then spied a brown paper bag I'd gotten from a store when getting scrapbooking paper, and thought, "Hey, that'd be fun to paint on!"
The bag's something like 22" by 14" or something....MUCH bigger than anything I've painted on before....well, FINISHED (there is a background and inked canvas sitting next to me!). Because it absorbs ink and water so well, I had to dip my brush in the ink and just slather it on....really, it only would spread maybe three inches before it ran out! So I drew and played and warmed up my art muscles.
Making a mess is SO MUCH FUN! I even dumped the extra ink out on the side of the canvas, and spread leftover white paint on places. Make a mess! It was amazing.
I then went on to do two journal page backgounds, one of which I'll share with you tomorrow. Or I should wait, because I haven't finished the posts and pages from journal #10, and I kind of want to finish up that series because I'm going to publish a 'zine of the journal!
Yes! The entire journal! I really love it and want to make a 'zine. Even if no one buys it....I want to play and publish it because it's fun and something I can give to friends interested in making a visual journal. "Here's mine. Take a look." How cool would that be?
Try doing something in the moment today. Just grab a large piece of paper, a page in your journal, a grocery bag....go crazy on it! Do whatever comes to you...it's just a "throw away" ... weren't you going to get rid of it anyway? Why not play on it for a bit before you do? I'm seeing that warming up before journaling or painting really helps build creative energy.
Thanks for all your comments and emails. I'm feeling much better -- and different than I did before. I feel more secure in my faith in the Creative Divine, and am going for the stars.
Just think -- I was once a beginning journaler, a beginning painter. We all start somewhere. Keep with it and you can achieve anything you dream of.
I present my playlist for those days when the art just won't come, for when you're feeling small, or for when you're ready to groove and get creating!
Track Listing & Key Lyrics:
1. Wake Up -- Arcade Fire
Children wake up/hold your mistake up/before they turn the summer into dust.
2. The Wreckoning -- Boomkat
I came I saw I kicked some ass/The pain I cause it makes me laugh/'cause the way I do my thing is strange/I just inject myself into your veins, yeah
3. Busy -- Butterfly Boucher
This could be so fun/I might just like it/I might just love it/I might get busy/I might get lonely/I just don't know yet/Can't wait to find out
4. A Beautiful Book -- Butterfly Boucher
Well everything's full of derams for one thing...woo hoo/And everything's full of dreams for reasons
5. See The World -- Gomez
Day to day/Where do you want to be?/'Cos now you're trying to pick a fight/With everyone you need
6. It's Amazing -- Jem
trust your instincts and most importantly/you've got nothing to lose/just go for it/it's amazing/it's amazing/all that you can do
7. Keep on Walking -- Jem
God give me strength/to keep on walking
8. Got it Good -- Jem
Got a soul, got a mind, got a heart that beats in time /You've got a smile, got a voice, got the gift of love /You've got it good, don't forget how lucky you are /Darling, darling /Use it to connect with everyone
9. Bottle it Up -- Sara Bareilles
I don't claim to know much except soon as you start/To make room for the parts/That aren't you it gets harder to bloom in a garden of/Love
* Everybody Got Their Something -- Nikki Costa
Everybody got their something/Make you smile like an itty bitty child
* Suddenly I See -- KT Tunstall
Suddenly I see/This is what I wanna be/Suddenly I see/Why the hell it means so much to me
(the last two wouldn't work in the player, so are direct links.)
Have you ever journaled something on a page, then gotten distracted -- three days later, you turn to the page, and you're no longer in the same mindset as when you started? What do you do? Will you continue on the vein you started simply to fill a page, or do you move on as well?
I recently was able to see many of my journal pages disconnected from context, ie, outside the side-by-side existence of being in a bound journal. And a thought struck me:
Sometimes, the pages with the least amount of words are the most powerful.
Take the one above. The first part at the top is about some tomatoes grown by the sisters at a local convent. They trade these sweet vegetables for coffee grounds to help fertilize their garden. Some weeks, we get cucumbers, or tomatoes, or other yummy veggies in exchange for our donation of grounds. And let me tell you, they were some of the most delicious foods I've ever tasted. When I first popped a cherry tomato in my mouth, I almost giggled, and knew I had to journal about it.
Only three little lines made it onto the page. That was all I had to say in order to remember.
A week and a half later, I felt some trepidation about what I'd been working on, a silly little self-indulgence story that would never be seen by anyone but trusted friends, instead of "real work" that needed to be done. Feeling the need to rationalize and validate my feelings, I turned to my journal, writing a paragraph before my break was finished.
A single paragraph that made me feel better.
Yesterday, looking at the page, I felt like doodling and coloring. So I played with some colored pencils, colored and drew, feeling better for doing some art for the day. I wrote about the rustle of leaves I could hear out my window.
A little fragment that reminds me of lying under the trees as a young child.
Your pages do not need to be completed at the same time, on the same day. They do not need to be filled with words or images of collaged bits to be "finished." You can add to pages days and weeks and months later as life progresses and changes and morphs and the leaves change color or snow falls. They are there for you when you want to remember, or need to write down a phone number from information. They are depositories of your day-to-day. No prompts needed. Just life.
Even the ugly pages have meaning. The blue page above didn't turn out how I'd like. But looking at it a month later, I can see how I felt on that day, remember hiking through the cool, still air of the woods, discovering a new sacred place with my four-legged companion. Not a beautiful page, or a nice one, but one with great meaning that will probably remain "unfinished."
Just like the one next to it. A single purple line. Beautiful in its simplicity.
Think about it for today. And everyday.
This essay came out of my Morning Pages. It is not edited, nor have I gone over it to make it "pretty;" it is raw, authentic, and revealing.
In a week, I'll be halfway to 26. It's an age I never really thought about; the gap between early 20's and 30 one that was supposed to be a blur of late nights spent writing and 18 hour days in sunny southern California. At 22, I was there – the late nights spent hunched over a keyboard or mapping out acts in scripts, days on a TV lot learning from those before, who'd done it.
I learned I don't want to write scripts. I didn't enjoy hammering out storylines about characters I could care less about. This revelation came as a surprise, as writing with other people's characters was exactly why I'd gotten into all that in the first place. I think it was the pressure of having to live up to something established with a much harsher group of critics. I couldn't indulge, or be silly.
What I learned was that I wanted to help develop ideas. See that seed grow and blossom. While others focused on their scripts, I became a sounding board, talking through ideas and plot devices, finding joy when something just clicked for them. Did my own script suffer? Absolutely. But at the cost of discovering more, and it was 100% worth it.
But as I lean toward 25 ½ (counting as a child, but unhappy about the halfway mark instead of overjoyed), I haven't done anything with all that. Instead of sunny LA, I'm back in the midwest, sitting on the front porch of the house I came to age in with nothing to show for my college education but an overdue final bill and student loans on the edge of default.
I'm not here against my will. Seeing the work I'd have to put into the field I'd chosen, I had to make a choice: push my body to the limit and live the current dream through a haze of painkillers and constant relapses, or go home and allow things to unfold at a slower pace.
Since I'm here in Chicago, and not LA, the path I chose is obvious.
While most of the time I'm cursing my body for it's shortcomings, broken bits, and imposed limits, I am deeply thankful for them. They force me to slow down. I remember my first weeks living downtown, how everyone moved so fast along the crowded sidewalks, pushing past me and my leisurely pace. I saw more, observed, and felt more, moving slower. Yes, it took some time to reconcile the reality that I simply couldn't move with everyone else, but the beauty of what going slower revealed – I felt fuller and more alive.
And so, nearing 26, my days are spent writing and painting. Giving advice to friends. Teaching. In the years since my big decision, I have gone from not being able to work at all to 30 hours a week on my feet. I took it a day at a time, listening to the rhythms of my body and the voice of the Divine answering my prayers for guidance. My days are bursting with possibility tempered by a disease that gives me no choice by to pace myself, go bit by bit. I have to live now, pay close attention to how I'm feeling and reacting to what I'm doing. If it hurts, I stop – plain and simple.
If only everyone had this internal sensor to guide them, they wouldn't be stuck doing things they don't enjoy, going through life at a breakneck pace! I must weigh my choices carefully and decide if they are worth the consequences.
And I did. Sitting here, listening to the cicadas buzz, the chirping and songs of nature, I am content with the knowledge that life will unfold for me as it will. I'm in no rush. By listening to my soul, I've embarked on an uncharted path I can take my time to explore and experience, the Divine at my side, helping me along the way.