on travel

Thomas Jefferson wrote to his nephew on August 10, 1787:

"Travelling. This makes men wiser, but less happy. When men of sober age travel, they gather knowledge, which they may apply usefully for their country; but they are subject ever after to recollections mixed with regret; their affections are weakened by being extended over more objects; & they learn new habits which cannot be gratified when they return home. Young men, who travel, are exposed to all these inconveniences in a higher degree, to others still more serious, and do not acquire that wisdom for which a previous foundation is requisite, by repeated and just observations at home.

The glare of pomp and pleasure is analogous to the motion of the blood; it absorbs all their affection and attention, they are torn from it as from the only good in this world, and return to their home as to a place of exile & condemnation. Their eyes are forever turned back to the object they have lost, & its recollection poisons the residue of their lives. Their first & most delicate passions are hackneyed on unworthy objects here, & they carry home the dregs, insufficient to make themselves or anybody else happy. Add to this, that a habit of idleness, an inability to apply themselves to business is acquired, & renders them useless to themselves & their country. These observations are founded in experience.

There is no place where your pursuit of knowledge will be so little obstructed by foreign objects, as in your own country, nor any, wherein the virtues of the heart will be less exposed to be weakened. Be good, be learned, & be industrious, & you will not want the aid of travelling, to render you precious to your country, dear to your friends, happy within yourself. I repeat my advice, to take a great deal of exercise, & on foot. Health is the first requisite after morality.

Write to me often, & be assured of the interest I take in your success, as well as the warmth of those sentiments of attachment with which I am, dear Peter, your affectionate friend."

BliSS

We all have heard that idea from Joseph Campbell that we are to follow our bliss.
What is your bliss?
and how do you find out what it is?
For me, it has involved a long road of trying lots of things:
some false starts, some "non-productive" projects which might have appeared to not have a point, but later had an obvious message or lesson, and some detours of service to loved ones and the compromise we all face when working in a family.
Often I need to remind myself each day what my bliss really is.
Once you've found it, following it should come easily. No?
For me, it seems an ongoing job to stay on the path, avoiding those distractions, that empty busy-ness, and that my mind takes me to despair about the world's problems that are way beyond my control.
But my bliss is always there in the end, gently encouraging me to follow it, to focus on it, to remember that adding my own joy to the world does way more than foundering in random hopelessness of the global struggles today.

How about you?

"Passion is the mother of all my magic." --Phillip Petit

Invention

Showing up -- I once had someone at one of my art shows ask me how in the world I came up with my ideas? I think they thought I just snapped my fingers, and had some original artwork.
The answer is that I come to the studio every day, and work.
Or play, depending on what my mood is.
and the secret is that those are both the same thing.

I think if anyone surrounded themselves with lush materials, put it all in an inspirational space, and spent 8 hours there every day, they also would come up with wonderful things. But first, you do have to put yourself there. I have cups of juicy markers, stacks of ink pads, piles and piles and piles (and more piles) of interesting papers, magazines, books, wrapping paper, postcards, ephermera, all ready to be cut up and torn up. I have lots of different kinds of glues and connecting material, including colored staples, tape, spray mount, and a sewing maching. and, for better or worse, I have a computer with this internet thing, where I can google art journaling, and come up with ten thousand ideas in a heartbeat.

The trick is, at some point, to stop LOOKING and start DOING. So, let's get on with it.
Happy Journaling!

  

"I don't read music. I don't write it. So I wander around on the guitar until something starts to present itself."     --James Taylor

connections

I just opened my e-mail and got a lovely note from across the globe.
Denise Daffara, from Australia, sent a photo of a journal page she created using a piece of mail art I had sent her as a RAAK. She also shared how she is in a subscription journaling group with a bunch of lively gals here from the States called the Cosmic Cowgirls, and works with on-line videos from Effy Wild.
Isn't it amazing the way we can do this work with others from around the world? In my journaling work, I often talk about moving inward, using this as a creative outlet to find my voice. But the other side of the coin is we can journal in community, build authentic and wonderful connections with others in a collaborative way.
To share journaling with others, I offer Art Journal Parties, and I offer a free once a month local group at my Unitarian Church (I guess I need to make a webpage for that!)
And of course, this blog, which is my way to share ideas with journalers too numerous to count, (well, I guess someone is counting -- 89171 hits so far according to that little box down there on the right.)
SO, here I sit, 4:20 in the morning (yup, couldn't sleep), sipping some marvelous coffee, receiving marvelous words from another artist on the other side of the planet where it is probably 4:20 in the afternoon, reading Denise's lovely words of kindness, gratitude and love.
and do check out her artwork, very cute!
Isn't it wonderful that we can work together to make journals?
Here is our collaboration:

"Let's you and I conjure together. You watch me and I'll watch you and I will show you how to show me how to show you how to do our marvelous human tricks together." --Courtney Milne

finding peace in frantic world

This can be hard. This "living life" stuff.
I sometimes feel like I learn the lessons over and over.
My 17 year old daughter sometimes tells me to take a deep breath and relax, that I am SO stressed.
and I take her advice.
There is so much in this life to distract us from our joy.
Today, my car battery died, I had to make decisions about our basement with the builder (we had a flood), I had a big art sale (WOOHOO) that needed credit card processing, I had prescriptions run out with no refills, and a soap order to get out.
This all seemed to happen at once.
I had my phone and computer going at the same time, trying to get all this done.
Then, stop.
Breathe.

I made a new batch of soap and it is curing on the table right next to me, the deep sweet smell of olive and coconut oils, shea butter, and lemony vervain is floating around my head, giving me a nice dose of aromatherapy.
Nice.
I have had people ask me how I have time for art journaling, my answer is I don't have time NOT to work in my journal, that this work is what keeps me able to do all the other things on my to-do list which make me crazy and frantic.
That, and breathing.
In.
Out.

Everyone sees the unseen in proportion to the clarity of his heart, and that depends upon how much he has polished it. Whoever has polished it more sees more - more unseen forms become manifest to him. --Rumi

ripening

Work from long ago.
I am getting some of my older work organized and sorted. A studio flood resulted in most of my work on paper being ruined. Twenty years of work. Sad, true, yet it also has made me look at what I have done, and think a little about how to get some of these things into the world. Sharing here, sharing in workshops, sharing in galleries, it's all good.
It is also nice to have a conversation with the past creative work I have done, as well as to have an understanding the greater good is part of why I am doing this work, so telling the story of my work is an important part of the life of the art.

"Do not measure in terms of time: one year or ten years means nothing.
For the artist there is no counting or tallying up; just ripening like
the tree that does not force its sap and endures the storms of spring
without fearing that summer will not come.
But it will come. It comes…"
--Rilke

gratitude

Now, right now, sitting in front of your computer, browsing the internet, looking at this and that, probably a bit distracted and maybe thinking about going to the fridge, or checking your e-mail, or wondering why you aren't sitting at your studio desk in front of your collage papers and journal, doing SOMETHING other than just mindlessly browsing. . . .
Stop.
Breathe in deep.
Again.
and imagine the life your grand- or great-grandparents lived.  Imagine if they woke up one morning in your shoes, and learned of indoor plumbing, houses heated and cooled to whatever temperature was desired, a fridge full of food, some of it flown to them from across the planet. 
A car in the driveway to take them to the store if they needed milk.
A plastic and metal box with 10,000 movies in it, ready to be watched instantly.
Imagine them looking in your closet, and seeing your clothes and shoes and warm coats and workout gear.   Sneakers and sandals and footwear in exactly their right size.
Imagine them discovering the internet, a place where they could buy the exactly perfect boots they were seeking on ebay, read the current news from around the world, send a twitter message to be seen by 428 of their closest friends, look up the price of a plane ticket to NYC in a month, even though they didn't plan on going. 
Imagine them learning that any information, ANY INFORMATION they sought could be found with a little searching on Google. 
Imagine explaining to them that any music they wanted to hear, any art they were curious about seeing, any facade of any famous building could be seen right then.
Imagine.
What an amazing place this world is.  Humans have created magnificence and beauty, since blowing chalk dust around their hands in a cave 30,000 years ago, we have had this ability to feel wonder at the world around us.
Last night as a blue moon shone through the Colorado cloudy sky,  I was lucky enough to gather in a circle with about 40 other people, and light some candles and think about how blessed we are. 
In ways we seem to forget every day.
Such magic around us.
Such wonder.

"Realizing your heart’s desire doesn’t require striving, it requires surrender.”  --Lisa King

Some goals.

 I want to do more of these things in my life:
1. Recycle, Reduce, Reuse.
2. Compost.
3. Grow an edible/medicinal landscape = more basil and beans, less grass.
4. Buy local, organic and fair trade.
5. Use alternative energy.
6. Get to know neighbors, share.

Babysteps to a better world.

"Only when the last river has been polluted, and the last tree been cut down, and the last fish been caught, will we realise we cannot eat money."   -Cree saying

Pinterest

"Pinterest, ugh."  I thought.
Another place on the internet to pull me away from my work, hours of mindless browsing that keeps my hands away from my own pens and papers and glues and paints and inks and scissors.

But the truth is, there is so much amazing inspiration to be had out there, it is worth browsing if you can pull yourself away after a time, and open up your own journal.  (maybe set a timer!)
I have been posting inspiring journaling images on THIS BOARD, these are not my own pages, but a portfolio of other artists' work from all over the world.
Have a peek.
Get inspired.
Then DO go to your own work space and do some journaling.

Happy Sunday.

“The main thing is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live.”
--Auguste Rodin

my last week of summer. . .

I like a road that doesn’t know just where it wants to go,
a road that’s always wandering and turning to and fro…
following a winding stream, or curving round a shore.
Making loops upon a hill to reach the valley floor.
I feel akin to vagrant roads for I like best to roam
not knowing until evening comes what place I call my home.
--Rachel Hartnett

Celebrating life's very small accomplishments

I have a friend with an autistic son. He went away to a special school, and of course she was quite worried about him. When he came home from the first break, he showed her his cell phone and the fact that he now had a friend listed there, with a phone number. She was overjoyed for him and so very proud of this accomplishment.
In life, we often look at the highest achievers to compare ourselves to, our society tends to focus on the winners in our culture of celebrity; the gold medal Olympic athletes, the Hollywood superstars, the mega millionaires . . . .

When we say "I wrote a book" it feels like it is not an achievement unless we can add the words "and it sold ten thousand copies!" I am here to remind us all that each small accomplishment in our lives is wonderful. That sometimes just getting up to face the difficult tasks of the day is a glorious achievement.

I was sharing last night in a group that I have been feeling very unruddered lately, unsure of my next step, not clear in my personal path right now, and how that makes me feel so unaccomplished. Thinking more about why I feel this way, I realize I've been caught up in our competitive society's thinking that unless we are at the top, we are nowhere.

Phooey to that.
I am going to choose not to get caught up in the whirlwind of defining success by the media's terms. I am so impressed by Olympic athletes, amazed at the hard work of best-selling authors, interested in those people who make statements the whole world can hear.
But I am equally proud of a differently-abled person who manages to get his very first friend listed on his cell phone.  He deserves a medal, too.

“There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.
You feel it, don't you?”
--Rumi

art workshop page

"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul." --Oscar Wilde

a Solstice page, step by step

Today is the longest day of the year, Solstice; and a time I am grateful to be in this sunny climate, able to be telling the stories of my life by working in my journal.
I thought I would show you step by step the process of making a page. Mixed media really is all about layers, layers, and more layers. The richness in the collage comes from using lots of different media to add depth to the work. So, let's begin: I started with a fold out page in my hand-made journal, sprayed with a bit of red ink.

Then I assembled a little pile of papers that seemed to like being near each other; some wrapping paper, a page from a book, some painted paper I had scanned and printed, and bits of a map.  Keep that scrap bag of papers handy, you might be grabbing some more as you go.

Tearing bits and pieces, I made a layout that I liked, with a few large images in the center and a border made of strips of different torn papers.  I used a metal tear bar with a crinkly edge to help make straight but interesting looking strips.

Outside, I spray glue on the pieces a few at a time in the glue box.  I use an old catalog under the pieces I am spraying, so I can turn the page each time and always have a clean underlayment to spray on.

Here's what it looked like once I got those papers attached; yup, it's a bit different from the layout, that's what happens when you take your work outside and take it apart to glue it, some things end up in new places.  That's okay!  and the page from the book tore because it stuck to my fingers, again, not a problem.  Happy accidents = interesting work.

I draw a light pencil outline of a figure on the page, and get ready to paint.

Some watercolor to outline the figure, keeping the wash light enough to let the papers show through.

I add some marker to outline the face and figure a bit, and start lettering.  I like to use lighter color Copic markers to make the larger letters, and outline them in black.

I felt like the figure needed more defining, so I stamped a spirally pattern on the clothes.  Seriously, I have never been sorry when I stamped a spirally pattern on anything.  You just can't go wrong with spirals.

and a few details showing some of the stamping.  I like to use a date stamp somewhere on each page.  and that confidential stamp always works.
and here is the finished page:

"Let us now crawl under the canopy of the currant leaves, and tell stories.  Let us inhabit the underworld.  Let us take possession of our secret territory."  --Virginia Woolf

journaling in community

I was hired to teach a one day workshop to a group of talented, inspiring women in Bailey, Colorado. The historic cabin we worked in was an 111-year old log building, originally a post office. It was right on the banks of the Platte River, and surrounded by pines trees and huge rock outcroppings.  There were hand carved details in the woodwork, some awesome antique finishes in the cabin, and lots of art created by previous owners, who were well known artists.  HERE is more info on the cabin.

And the setting itself was so wonderful -- I would have liked to wander around outside more with my camera, and some watercolor paints and sketchbook to capture some of the detail of the place. (note to self, go back to paint outside!)

For our one day workshop, we worked in the morning tearing watercolor paper into thirds and hand binding the pages to be an eight page, fold-out journal. We then painted the pages, and let them dry while we enjoyed a marvelous lunch. Then we had the afternoon to tear and cut and play with paper and color and ink and chalk. Beautiful pages were made, and meaningful conversations were had. I hope again to take some groups up to this magical place to work together in our journals, and I can't think of a better place to be surrounded with beauty and quiet.

Here is a link to the art journal party page where I posted more images of our day, with some information on the cabin itself, and how to schedule a workshop.

"Little by little, one travels far." --J. R. R. Tolkien

today's thought:

"We humans have always defined ourselves by narration.  What's happening today is that we're allowing multi-national corporations to tell our stories for us.  The theme of corporate stories (and millions drink them in every day) seldom varies: to be happy you must consume, to be special you must conform.  Absurd, obviously, yet our identities have become so fragile, so elusive, that we seem content to let advertisers provide us with their version of who we are, to let them recreate us in their image: a cookie-cutter image based on market research, shallow sociology, and insidious lies.  Individualism is bad for business  --  though absolutely necessary for freedom, progressive knowledge, and any possible interface with the transcendent.  And yes, it's entirely possible to function as a free-thinking individual without succumbing to narcissism.  This can be tricky at times, I suppose, but then so can the tango  --  particularly if you're dancing alone."

--Tom Robbins

what are you going to make today?

"This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival; a joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and attend them all. Even if they're a crowd of sorrows... still, treat each guest honourable. He may be clearing you out for some new delight."   --Rumi

map + stamp = happiness

A collage always seems pleasant if it holds a map or a stamp, or better, both. I was lucky enough to get some topographical atlases at the latest library book sale, so I have plenty of lovely Colorado topo maps to use in my journaling. and this little Kingfisher stamp from Hong Kong always is nice to add. A watercolor of a beet, some words, and I have a journal page that makes me happy. How will your journalmake you happy today?



"It is not the level of prosperity that makes for happiness but the kinship of heart to heart and the way we look at the world. Both attitudes are within our power... a man is happy so long as he chooses to be happy, and no one can stop him." --Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

today's journal page:

Last night we had a super violent thunder storm - sirens went off three times around midnight with announcements blaring, "Severe storm warning in effect, take shelter immediately." Wow, I have never heard a public broadcast blaring out into the world like that; I asked my neighbor how often that's happened, and he said he has lived here since 1969 and he remembers it happening three times. The lightening was relentless and magnificent. I watched through our big picture window and the flashes and booming, hoping our maple tree's sturdy and strong roots could hold on. They did, and this morning there are just branches and lots of leaves to sweep up. As long as the storm does not kill us, it's power is quite amazing and beautiful to behold. Such can be our moodiness, our fear of failure, the emotional storm that often comes along with the creative way of being. Welcoming the storm is sort of a wonderful courageous thing to do. I have been working with this idea lately, accepting when emotions are difficult, letting the expression flow into my painting and collage and journaling. How fun, and how wonderful, to turn our emotional storm into something beautiful and expressive.

"The ground submits to the sky and suffers whatever comes. Tell me, is the Earth worse for giving in like that?"   --Rumi

still looking.

"Some things cannot be spoken or discovered until we have been stuck, incapacitated, or blown off course for awhile. Plain sailing is pleasant, but you are not going to explore many unknown realms that way." -- David Whyte

process

Process.
What is it that keeps us fresh, interested, working forward? I know it is very, very easy to drop into a rut as an artist, getting good at one technique, using that as a crutch to easily pop out our creative eggs every day as a repetitive pattern, not pushing the boundaries or struggling with anything new or different or innovative. Indeed, as artists, we are mostly required to have a signature style, an image and a "look" that defines our work. But that really works against creativity and play. We need to be brave enough to try new things. One of the beauties of art journaling is it allows us the chance to play, to innovate, to make messes and experiments, to try all kinds of new techniques and media. Change. Good for the soul. Make sure you mess around a lot, don't get stuck. I just traveled back East for a brief visit, and although the planes and trains and buses and suitcases and logistics were tiring, the new scenery was just good for my soul. Get out and move. Try something new. Make a mess. Have fun.

Focusing only on the results stagnates the process.

"The biggest bursts of speciation that we know about in the history of the earth are soon after great cataclysms, like the extinction of the dinosaurs, which create new opportunities, and all sorts of new forms spring up... So, quite often, the reasons for creativity depend on accidents or disasters that prevent the normal habits being carried out." --Rupert Sheldrake