Your Custom Text Here
Peek over my shoulder as I finish up playing & sewing up covers for my new journal. All you need is your art supplies, sticky-back canvas, and a cereal box.
The Experiments Book is my Tuesday vlog series where you are invited into my studio to take a seat and play along as I create, stitch, paint, bind, & generally have fun!
(I finished editing this last night, and fell asleep as the program was exporting the video. Sometimes, this happens, especially to me! )
Points of Two is an experiment in journaling with myself and Roben Marie! Check out our archives to see the previous weeks' pages.
When I started this spread, I wasn't intending for it to be part of this project. But as I continued to work (and whine on Twitter), I realized it was a perfect representation of what this week's theme is all about.
I started on the right side, trying to think, to get back into the groove after weeks of quilting and fabric art. I had all these plans in my head, and just got in my own way. After awhile, I knew I had to just give in and stop trying so much and just play. So I glued in the fabric and started randomly painting. I didn't know where it was going, and yet, when I finished, I knew exactly what it was saying.
Be sure to check out Roben-Marie's blog for her story!
While looking through my archives to grab journal pages from this year, I came upon this journal page, done for an early Points of Two. Reading through it, I realized I'd accomplished everything on this list, even though I'd forgotten about it.
Become more confident as a woman
I used to see myself as a child. Or not quite a child, but not a Grown Up as I’d seen them. I could never understand how girls younger than me could project more maturity than me, with their perfect outfits, hairstyles, and purses.
I learned that I don’t necessarily want that. I love the child-like qualities I have, and have learned that even though I love t-shirts and jeans, and carry a cross-body bag, that I’m seen as a woman, not a girl.
Teach classes
This year marked my first in-person classes, as well as several successful online classes, a feat I’d never accomplished before. I took the time to iron out the kinks and prepare myself. Remember 8th grade? How afraid of high school you were because of how different it would be? I finally walked through those doors, got lost a bit, but finally fell into a routine that worked best for me and my students.
I hope I improve on this in the coming year. I already have one workshop written and another project-based mini-class outlined. And that’s just for January.
Create more things
I always worried that my only artwork would be journal pages. Not only have I created paintings, but I’ve gotten bolder in my approach, going to bigger and bigger canvases. And I’ve even branched off into quilting and fabric arts. As for journal pages? I’m pretty even between journal-related art and those “more things.”
Redefine my style/art
The month before my move to Arizona was a difficult time for me, creativity-wise, and I can only liken it to a rebirth of myself. It was only after I arrived here and saw the stirrings of a new, deeper style in my art that I fully recognized the enormity of what had happened to me. I cried a lot, talked to friends, and shut myself away only to become that butterfly. I am now creatively charged in a way I have never felt before, and am compelled to create all the time, even if it isn’t something I’ll use. I’m experimenting and playing and more confident. And it all have to happen naturally. You can’t force these things.
Write more
Can we just say, “See December’s posts?” for this one? #Reverb10 has given me my faith in writing back.
Reconnect with friends I’ve missed
My best friend Jun was one of those friends, along with her twin sister. I also met up with a close friend from high school and her girlfriend (and am always happy when I see them together...they have that rare, magic love!), saw off another long-time friend, and started using Facebook more to get in contact with family now scattered across the country.
Eat healthy and lose some weight
In November, I decided to give up High Fructose Corn Syrup. It was just something I knew I had to do, and when people ask me why, I say my body made the decision. While I may have ice cream once and awhile, my daily food intake doesn’t have ANY in it. I now read the labels of the foods I buy more carefully, and shop in the natural section more often. I drink iced tea and water.
I was also able to fit into jeans I haven’t been able to wear in nearly four years because of a balanced diet, more walking, and bike riding.
Finish all this SSI stuff
Well, that didn’t have a great end, but I now know what I did wrong and have faith I’ll succeed this year.
~~~
A Year In Journal Pages
January - I had just gotten my Yudu and was experimenting with combining paper collage with screenprinted elements. This still remains one of my favorite pieces.
February - My first use of a die-cut as a stencil, as well as the new way I was collaging; smaller pieces from different kinds of papers all glued down together, randomly.
March - I kinda rebelled and went with those same small bits of paper, but in a less-concentrated manor. And I was totally rockin' the ink writing again.
April - some fun whispy stuff going on here!
May - Stencilry and paper sewn onto the page. A love affair I'd never tire of!
June - Doodles came into the picture. I missed drawing at this point, I think!
July - Where I began to see the change in my art. Inspired by Hope, I added little bits with tape that hid secrets. And I started using stamps because of CHA at the end of the month!
August - I got my Copic airbrush. XD
September - Working in the journal I made post CHA, I decided to challenge myself to making a page with ink, only. I love the colors in this page, the stamps, and the eyelets, if you can believe that!
October - The page on the right was made first, and the one on the left was completely out of the blue...and I knew I'd found something special!
November - Photos became a big part of my explorations out in the desert, and I knew I had to figure out how to incorporate them as well as keep doing the art I love. Messy and busy, but lovely!
December - I no longer finish a page in a single sitting. I think this one has grabbed stuff throughout the entire month, yet I know there's more to be done.
~~~~
More to come:
A video production class for crafters, journalers, and creatives, geared towards those who don't know where to begin. The PDF is already 25 pages, and I haven't even started the editing chapter yet!
Articles in Somerset Studio, Artful Blogging, & Art Journaling. That's three! In just the first part of the year. Also, a possible in another magazine!
My Etsy shop will be re-opening next week with kits, journal-making supplies, journals, prints, and much more!
More steady blog posts, how-tos, and Tuesday videos are coming back!
Dina's mixed-media meetup in Phoenix!
And much more...2011, you're mine (but I can share)!
Finally, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who reads or leaves comments or says hi to me on twitter or takes a class (or two!) or buys from my Etsy shop. I may be doing the work, but YOU are helping create my dream life, and I am thankful you are here to lay witness to all I hope to accomplish.
December 24 – Everything’s OK. What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?
I keep thinking there isn’t really a moment, but then realize it’s only because non-okay things have happened after such moments of clarity, and for some reason, was holding onto the idea that such things instantly negated the okay moment.
For example, when my second workshop of this year, True to You, was open for registration, and I saw how many people were signing up, I thought, “Okay. I can do this full-time artist thing.” And then, two months later, the money was gone and I was back to having panic attacks all the time over things like being able to afford medications and pay simple bills.
But then things were okay again, and something else came along, and my spirits were lifted.
This is were most of the stress in my life comes from, and it’s really my own fault, isn’t it? I set out to accomplish something, then skate on by for awhile until I absolutely must be spurred into action. Like waves crashing into shore, I enjoy the beach until the next one smashes into the sand, the storm on the horizon always threatening to make landfall. Sure, I transitioned from making what I thought people wanted into making what I enjoyed, but for some reason, always saw things like making classes or doing broadcasts as chores to be performed before I could have fun.
This isn’t a healthy mindset, and yet I spent most of the year dwelling in it.
If I’m honest with myself, brutally this-may-hurt-you honest, I know my moment was back in March after I’d put together my first journal-making mini-workshop. There was a lot of insanity happening in my life at the time, things I had no control over and yet was forced to coexist with; I was miserable in life but excited in art. I poured myself into anything in my studio I could, and went from being sociable to spending hours at a time in the studio, sometimes doing no more than playing on the computer. It became my safe haven in a storm whirling around me, a special place untouched by anyone else. In fact, I rarely let anyone else enter, and almost always had the door closed.
But at that same time, I realized I’d be okay. Sure, I’d go through droughts, as I no longer received a steady paycheck. I’d have ideas and those interested in learning things I’d crafted. I’d have fun and do something more with all I had in my mind. And I think I knew, somewhere deep inside, that even though things were going downhill all around me, as long as I knew myself and had my art, I’d be just fine.
This is a bit related to an experience I had a few years ago. My best friend was planning on going to Los Angeles for her final semester of school, and had really been planning it all along. About a week before applications were due, I was suddenly struck by the notion that I, too, was supposed to go. So what if it was for comedy writing and I was a drama person? I could broaden my horizons, have an amazing experience, and try out something new.
And so I went into that meeting with all these comedy people I only knew from production and business classes with, and turned in my application. Got more money from my student loans to cover expenses. There came a point, though, when the complex we’d be staying in called to say I needed a co-signer to guarantee I’d pay my share. I didn’t have anyone in my life to do that for me except my best friend, and she could hardly back me since she, too, would be staying in the same place.
Dejected, I called the girl who would ultimately be on record as the one who rented the apartment, and told her I could positively pay the money, had it coming via student aide, and swore I’d never screw her. Amazingly, she said she trusted me.
(On a side note, we didn’t really hang out or talk until the second to last day, and it was then we realized how much we had in common; in fact, the reason we didn’t chat much is because we were both in our rooms relaxing or working diligently on our coursework!)
I was frightened to leave my home for such a long time, and be clear across the country. But I’d also been working on myself, on my self-esteem and identity and all those bits that make up a truly amazing life. I knew I had to let go of fear and just do it — go with what my heart was telling me.
My time out there was one of the best times of my life. And the first time I sobbed from overwhelming happiness.
So I knew, back in March, when I had that moment again — that moment filled with fear and yet there was such certainty in my soul, I knew I couldn’t do anything else, or else I’d always wonder:
What if?
So that’s my gift to you today. Sit down. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and let the world simply fall away around you. Listen to yourself, your heart. And follow it. Or else you may be working one day and find yourself paralyzed by the sadness that comes with wondering what if… what if I’d only done the scary, unusual, adventurous thing I knew with my heart I should have jumped for?
December 25 – Photo – a present to yourself
Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.
Unless I’m out with a group of people, I never take a “naked” picture of myself. And before you get all weirded out, I mean without make-up or my hair done. That was always a principle part of preparing for videos or photo shoots (like my younger brother, I love staging photo shoots by myself, using the timer on my camera to grab the shots). Actually, even when I’m with a group of people, I’ve put on my face, as my grandmother called it. I used to think I wasn’t good looking, that my face had too many scars, so would be embarrassed to be seen without a nice layer of foundation and powder on my face.
(I still am, actually, but have grown comfortable with wearing less make-up.)
Looking through my shots, I found myself thinking on this prompt, looking for someone I truly am or want to be. And while my photos are lovely, they already have meaning behind them. A thought or idea I kept in mind while shooting them.
Or they were of me out with friends, enjoying myself. Which, sure, could have a good shot to use, but it just didn’t feel right.
By chance, I stumbled on this shot. I was working on a prompt from Liz Lamoreaux’s book Inner Excavation, about documenting a day through photos. I’d resolved myself the night before to keep my camera close by and take photos of ordinary, amazing moments throughout the next day.
While I only made it about an hour (and then forgot to bring my camera with and missed some stuff), this shot survived.
When I was little, I used to love climbing onto the school bus early in the morning. People’s eyes, right after they wake up, have a sparkle to them. They’re softer, more open, and amazingly beautiful. Every day, I’d love looking at my classmates and their sublime early day eyes before their shields or masks went up and things became sharp edges.
That’s why I love this photo. There’s no pretense. I had just woke up and was heading out to walk the dogs when I snapped this photo of me in the mirror (which is why it’s blurry — I have shaky hands!). No make-up, with my hair thrown up in a quick ponytail.
And I think I’m radiant in it.
(Even though I do look half-asleep. I imagine this is how my face would look were I to turn into a zombie.)
December 23 – New Name Let’s meet again, for the first time. If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why?
I kinda have a fun story about this prompt.
When I was 13 or so, I discovered The Internet. And on The Internet was this amazing thing called fanfiction. Now, I became quite addicted to reading stories about my favorite characters, and after a few years, was brave enough to start writing some of my own. This was Back In The Day, when there was no Skype or social networks or any other method we have now of knowing more about the anonymous people we interact with online.
And being a child, mostly, I decided I wouldn’t use my real name. That way, they (the pedophiles and baddies I was sure were looking for 14 year old fanfiction authors) would never be able to find me! It took me a bit to come up with a pen name, but being the newbie anime nerd I was, knew it had to be Japanese. So I started writing as Akira Starr (the last name being that of one of my classmates; she wasn’t too impressed when I told her).
A little bit later, one of my friends, notably more versed in Japanese things, told me Akira was a guy’s name. Well, that certainly wouldn’t do! I promptly chopped off the A and in an instant, became Kira.
Which has been my online monicker ever since. I’ve signed emails with it for so long, it’s actually habit, and my recent signature of combining my true first name and my internet alter-ego feels...odd somehow.
Naturally, when I started posting my artwork, I used my online name, and when it came to finally publishing work and getting a bit more serious about where my artistic life was going, I knew I had to use my real first name. But after all these years, I can’t completely shed the Kira I am. Sometimes, it feels like I AM two people - Samie is the real me, the one sitting here typing, the one who will ride her bike to Starbucks later for some tea and writing time, the one who has faults and imperfections. And Kira is the woman I strive to be. I know it sounds odd, but in my mind, it makes perfect sense. Because we don’t have to share our whole selves online, Kira doesn’t have the bad habits and weaknesses that I have in the real world.
And more than that; most of my friends are ones I’ve met online, so they call me Kira. Which I sometimes prefer. But lately, there’s been this resurgence of calling me Samie or Samantha, from the very same people I’ve met online. I don’t know exactly where or how this started, and so, the question of, “What do you like to be called?” now comes up more than ever before.
The answer is, I don’t really mind. I feel like there’s a re-melding of the mind, this absorption that says I can be both. That I AM both - and that it’s totally okay. Honestly, I adore the name Kira, and sign many things that way. But my mother hates it. Which is her prerogative, since she was on the Official Naming Committee and while I may have been there, didn’t really vote.
I don’t know what the lesson is, here. And that’s okay, too.
While playing around with new gifts and products, I made a randomness collage (what I call pages created for the purpose of being cut up) on some Claudine Hellmuth Stick-Back Canvas.
Which rocks, btw. At first, I was skeptical, since it curled pretty fast. But the thing dried and now lies completely flat. I have the white canvas, and didn't gesso it before working, so I got some great watercolor-like effects going with my fluid acrylics.
It is now off to be run through my new Cuttlebug for bits to be added to journal pages, paintings, and even fabric fun!
Download Image [15mb, PNG]
The Fine Print: Please feel free to print out and use this randomness collage on any of your projects. You can even use it in a painting and sell it! Just don't alter the original, including cut it into pieces or change colors, in order to sell it. It is a gift!
Points of Two is an experiment in journaling with myself and Roben Marie! Check out our archives to see the previous weeks' pages.
This week, we focused on wings. I actually had this piece of Amy Butler fabric with wings already stitched on it in my scrap pile, so I rescued it and used paint directly on the fabric. Embellished with Copic markers and a cool silver pen I found.
And here's Roben-Marie's page! Check out her blog for more!
December 22 – Travel. How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?
I haven’t had a vacation in four years.
Really. 2005 and 2006 were fantastic travel years; I visited Japan in 2005, and in 2006, spent a little over a week in Denver, followed by two months in Los Angeles. Being one who loves to travel, I had a terrific time with all that moving around.
And then everything just dried up.
Sure, I drove around northern Illinois. But that’s as far as I went. I stayed at Jun’s apartment a lot, but that was only 45 minutes from home. No vacations, cruses, or even overnight stays at a hotel.
Nadda.
And then — and I now realize how damn insane we were — my mother and I packed up most of our belongings into a small U-Haul trailer, attached it to the Rav4, threw leashes on the two dogs, and decided to take a five-day trip across the country.
We didn’t have an apartment picked out, or even a place to stay. Our trip-tik book from AAA simply ended in the middle of Scottsdale simply because we needed to give the lady a specific ending point, or at least a town to finish off in. Aside from that, we had some money, our things, and a few internet listings my father had handed off to us before we left.
Driving cross-country is a fading art. There’s such magic and majesty that comes with driving through so many states & regions, an awesome sense of how small we really are. We passed from the lush forests of the Ozarks to the wide-open plains of Oklahoma and Texas, through to the desert of New Mexico and Arizona. The progression was slow, a blended photo winding along outside the windows as we drove on.
There was the amazing pizza we had in Missouri, ordered from the desk clerk’s favorite place. And the breakfast at Waffle House; we’d never been to one before and simply loved it! Down through the rolling hills and onto the turnpike in Oklahoma, where it cost $6 to drive half the state.
Oklahoma City was windy, on the edge of a thunderstorm. I spent the night running around town with Deina, trying to find someplace to print off the photos I’d taken so far. The courtyard was full of birds singing — a chaotic choir that helped us to wake up early the next day.
And then the great plains stretched before us, wide open spaces with mountains far off in the distance. There were lines and lines of tall, white windmills, rotating blades catching the warm sun.
Very gradually, as we passed through Texas, the plains began to dry up, the grass turning to rock and sand as we entered New Mexico. Here, the time changed, signified by a small green sign, “Now Entering Mountain Time.” That night was spent in Tucumcari, just off I-40, in one of the most beautiful hotel rooms I’ve ever stayed in. As we wandered out in the morning sun, we came across the peeling paint of abandoned gas stations, the asphalt of old Route 66 cracked and forgotten. Old advertisements painted on the sides of buildings were washed out, bleached by a hot desert sun, their builders and owners long-gone. It made me sad, driving out of town, a fading monument to times long gone by.
Mountains seemed to grow from the ground as we passed through Albuquerque, our poor car’s engine struggling on low octane to make it through the higher terrain, our progress slowed by the extra weight we were towing. When we hit the border to Arizona, our aching backs and pounding heads were filled with glee as the end of our journey neared. We stayed the night in Holbrook, in a hotel with the worst customer service I’ve ever experienced.
All along the way, we ate at local restaurants, the dogs left in the car with the windows rolled down as many hotels didn’t allow them to stay alone in the room. We stopped at gas stations for water and pop and snacks, ate greasy fast food as we continued on along the interstate. Walked the dogs and let them pull us along. Tried to keep Drake from chasing shiny things all around the car.
Let our hair down and listened to books-on-CD. Found funny and interesting things in gift shops. Befriended some helpful guys near the edge of Texas, who came together to help us figure out that we were in desperate need of more oil (as we’d gone through what was in the car by then).
Once you’re on the road, a few hours in, everything seems to spread out before you into infinity. You can see nothing but land and road as far as you can see. Time slips away. And for a few precious days, the rest of the world ceases to exist.
There be magic.
I'm sitting here listening to Blue Ridge Mountains by Fleet Foxes (one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard), but in my mind, I'm still in that car heading west, as the pioneers did, in search of a better life. They were definatly onto something.