I embarked on this second week of creating with a high from my first week. I thought I’d use the excuse to create as a means to change up my mantelpiece styling which I did with a mildly pleasing result. I’m sure I’ll come back at it soon but it was a brain scrub of a sort. But then a conversation with my sister had me thinking about mixed media and the craftroom was cooling down (it’s an enclosed porch and very hot in the Summertime) and calling me.
It never ceases to amaze me the child-like capacity to be thrilled with myself for my art work. And this month, I’m finding a thrill in using a long intended to use medium and allowing for it to morph and mix with other mediums through an almost meditational process of repetition. Where the first week it was pastels, this second week finds me now introducing the pastels to the watercolored encyclopedia pages with great success and effect.
This daily arting endeavor is changing me. I knew it would. I just had to commit to allowing for it to change me. I used to use creativity as a thing to torture my inner child with mean “No you can’t go out and play until you eat your broccoli” kinda stuff. And my inner child was kept from her one true love, seeing what she could make. And then being proud of herself. To see my declaration of my September intent, go here. And to see the first week, go here.
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And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.
I want to do this with you. When I try on my own, I feel helpless. Isn’t that silly? I tore a sheet out of a book about drama, and I drew a nice pink heart balloon, and then I ruined it with two strange over-painted, crooked, and otherwise unsatisfactory flowers. It set the heart balloon off balance. I threw it out and tried again. I wrote “The Play’s The Thing” Across the other words in big black ink and drew a pink box around it, and then wrote in pink below it, “to wring her heart,” and it just looked empty, and I threw it out. This is what I go through. Someday, let’s do this together, and I can follow your lead and maybe find my own way. :>)
So listen, I drew something crappy today Tamara. I remembered I had this black pastel paper and I tried to draw a spider web and a spider and bug in the web. It looked like crap! So I turned it over and drew the feather I was wanting to draw. For me, out of my head doesn’t work. I’m better at drawing what I see. And yes, the process of finding what you are good at can be painful. Those trys we’re you stabbing to see what it would look like if you drew a pink balloon or a box. If it wasn’t so personal, if you didn’t have the stabbing wound of shame at the thought af anyone judging you for it, what would you have decided about what you’d done. I like this, throw this out. Different medium, different balance, different words. I’m all for simple. I feel raw when I write poetry as I told you so I know what you mean.