I started this art journal page on Sunday, and until yesterday afternoon, it looked nothing like this. That’s what I love about art journaling: you just keep going, covering up whatever’s not working until you get a page that sings to you. As my husband just put it: “Wow. That page has a lot of layers.”
When I started my new art journal a month or two ago, I figured that I’d use only canvas “paper” for the pages, but I seldom plan because I seldom follow my own plan. (I’m definitely more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants girl.) The beauty of my new art journal design, though, is that it accommodates changes in the plan.
A few days ago, my friend and blogging partner Jessica (check out her gorgeous work at Living in a Still Life) sent me a link to this video, and I was inspired.
Watch the Process: SOMETIMES Journal Page from Roben-Marie Smith on Vimeo.
As soon as I found a moment, I started in on my own page. (Thinking that I was doing it just for the process and not the product, I chose watercolor paper, instead of the canvas stuff.) I started the page with a rubber stamp and VersaMagic chalk ink in Gingerbread. From there, I sprayed on ink (my own watered-down mixture) and Tattered Angels Glimmer Mist in Black Magic, after placing two cardstock numbers on the page; removed the numbers and colored in their outlines with oil pastel, which I then blended with Ranger Alcohol Blending Solution; stenciled on some “stitching” with the help of a metal stencil and Very Fine Sharpie; adhered part of an old journal page (I didn’t burn them all!); used a ripped paper doily as a stencil; scraped embossing paste over a metal stencil and added glitter; and used a journaling stencil as, well, a stencil. The coolest part is the mixture I painted over the stencil: acrylic paint, Ranger Perfect Pearls, and white embossing powder. After removing the journaling stencil, I puffed up the embossing powder with a heat gun, and I LOVE the effect. I then dry-brushed light lilac paint over the page.
Then, I walked away. I had enjoyed the process and figured that was enough. I was wrong. Yesterday, I got the itch to continue working on the page and actually add it to my journal. I overcame the voice of Perfect Pete whispering in my ear about what my art journal was “supposed” to look like, and I finished the page. As Seth Godin would say, I shipped it. I added my journaling and thought I was done, but realized the right side of the page needed something else to get my eye to move over there.
I used purple and brown Dick Blick pastels to highlight the brushed-on paint and doily outline; stamped on the ripped-out page from the MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers (yes, I still have it from my college days oh-so-long ago) and adhered it with Liquitex Gloss Super Heavy Gel; and capped it off with a piece from my first art journal (which I dismantled): white buttons purple-wired together and attached to the page with a brad.
I stepped back, snapped a picture or two, and realized that I had made a mistake. The buttons and wire just didn’t work. They felt like an afterthought (and were); were much to bright for the rest of the page; and needed to go. I immediately knew what to use in place of the buttons: a large, bronze grommet.
Man, it feels good to finish what I started. I should make an effort to do it more often.
At age 45, I’ve decided it’s time to damn the torpedoes and do things the way I want to do them. Hence, I scrapped the art journal I began creating months ago, and started over fresh, from scratch. Detail shots below.
One of the gifts I received for my birthday yesterday was a set of two Moleskine sketchbooks. Today, I took out my Derwent Inktense pencils, Copic atYou Spica Glitter Pens, and a book of poetry by Theodore A. Borrillo, a retired Denver attorney-turned-poet I interviewed for The Denver Catholic Register about 17 years ago.
You can see the results above; and below, you can read the words on the page. (By the way, I think the line, “To earn the wages nature pays” is just fabulous.)
Inside the “45″:
… I welcome my nothing days
To empty my mind of clutter
To reflect upon the mystery of my being
To ponder the beauty of creation
To earn the wages nature pays
(So undemanding in all her ways)
And in the quiet and stillness of my nothing days
I get to know myself again.
—from “My Nothing Days”
by Theodore A. Borrillo
Around the perimeter of the “45″:
Yesterday was my birthday. I am now 45 years old. It seems like a good time to slow down (ever so slightly), re-assess, look back, look forward, and give thanks for the blessings — too numerous to name — that have made my life worth living.
In the curve at the base of the “4″ and beneath the “5″:
New journals offer so much hope.
Today’s art journal entry:
All of these little drawings were inspired by stamp designs in an old Angel Company catalogue. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the warning internalized by a young artist in Tomie dePaola’s The Art Lesson. In that picture book, the protagonist is advised by his twin artist cousins to practice, practice, practice, but not copy. I agree (very much) with the admonishment to practice but completely disagree with the advice about copying. Copying great works is a perhaps the best way to attain the skills it takes to create your own great works.
On Saturday, we spent time with my husband’s family and celebrated a late Christmas. We pick names for sibling/sibling-in-law gifts and names for cousin gifts. My sister-in-law Jen shopped for me from my Amazon wishlist and the results were lovely. She bought me a jewelry-making book I’ve long wanted and the complete set of Faber-Castell Gelatos. What are Gelatos, you ask? Well, according to the website, they are compact acid-free pigment sticks. I like to think of them as color rockets, because they lay down beautiful, vibrant color with lightning speed. What can you do with them, you ask? You can draw with them, smudge them, blend them with water, apply them directly to stamps. I imagine there’s more, but I haven’t gotten much time to play with them. Don’t worry, though, I’ll work hard to find more answers for you. Oh, and they come in a very pretty box. Don’t you just love nice touches like that?
We discussed perfectionism in one of my online home education groups recently. I was able to contribute to the conversation, because perfectionism has definitely stopped me in my tracks on more than one occasion. I was convinced that it was all behind me, though. I was sure I had killed that cad, figured I had banished him from life, thought that when I long ago told him to hit the road, he had actually up and left.
Apparently, I was wrong. I catch glimpses of his ghost every now and again. And I feel chagrined. Who did I think I was? Immune to Perfectionism and his charming ways? I’m no better than the other women he’s seduced.
But I want to be. I want to get back on the wagon and stay there. I want to be the one who succeeds where others fail.
I’ve put up a good defense and have held my ground on many occasions: Thanksgiving, for instance. A turkey that’s edible, a few mashed potatoes and the jellied cranberry sauce Luke loves are all I now need to call the day a success. In the past, the big day wasn’t good enough if there were no homemade dinner rolls, the pumpkin pie was less than perfect and the gravy had lumps.
Now, in the year 2013, it’s time to go on the offensive. I’ll attack Mr. Perfectionism and make sure he never shows that handsome, chiseled profile around here again. In fact, I’ve already made my first tactical move. Last month, I started a Smash Book. A few months before that, an art journal. Know what they have in common? Chaos. In both cases, I pick a page at random and start pasting and writing and plain ‘ole creating. Chronological order? Don’t make me laugh! Perfectly coordinated elements on a page? Ha ha! One page dedicated to one subject? Yeah, right! Cohesiveness? Flow? Any sort of sense? Not in a million years!
Hey, Perfect Pete! Don’t let the door hit you in th — ooh, too late!
A recent family reunion inspired this page in my art journal. That’s a shot of organizer Auntie Bev, back when she was a bit younger, but probably not nearly as wonderful.
The kids and I went to Barnes & Noble last week. I worked for the company in Colorado for a number of years, and at a New Hampshire B. Dalton in college. I’d love to love my local B&N, but I don’t. Shopping there too often leaves me feeling frustrated. Nevertheless, when I do venture in, I can usually manage to spend some money on a Stampington publication: Artful Blogging, Somerset Life, Stamper’s Sampler. On this trip, I splurged on my first issue of Art Journaling. I actually didn’t have high hopes for it. I figured I’d leaf through it, read a few articles, get distracted, and move on. That hasn’t been the case just yet, though. I have found the magazine inspiring. So much so, that I’ve already created my own art journal, finishing my first page yesterday. I took a smallish, wire-bound notebook I had once used as a journal of sorts, ripped out the remaining pages of flimsy paper (oh, how I despise flimsy paper in a notebook), refilled it with pages cut from scrapbook paper (mostly Bazill Basics cardstock), and painted the covers.
Here’s my first page. It’s not as artsy as the journal pages in Art Journaling, but that’s ok. I’m me, not the women who created those books.
I painted the white swirls; re-used the pink die-cut heart (after removing it from calendar pages that never worked out); added pink Flowersoft to its center; affixed the stamped “library” card (Memory Box); stamped the cherry blossom branch (from Stampendous; it’s one of my favorite stamps); and the date circle (The Angel Company). Copic markers and Spica Glitter Pens added color and pertinent information (like the date), and I used a dip pen with J. Herbin scented ink in Encre Rose Cyclamen for the journaling.
I think what I like so much about this new creative outlet is the lack of pressure. I’m creating this for myself, and I can use just about anything I have on hand to tell a story, but that story doesn’t have to be the main attraction. In other works, my book can be more about the art and less about the journal. It’s completely up to me.
