As far back as I can remember, the word "journal" made me shrink back, act like I was invisible, and retreat into some dark space that was very, very frightening. I remember seeing the journals of other artists that had shown me their work and they seemed very comfortable sharing these "top secret" works of art. Not sure where all those thoughts came from except that maybe I, ME, MYSELF, had a lot of "skeletons" in my closet, or had one too many secrets that I didn't want to share.
Slowly but surely those fears began to diminish when I realized that I didn't have to write anything on those pages about me! I could copy something from a book; maybe a quotation, a phrase that I liked or some random words that meant nothing at all. Once I realized that I "could do that", the creative process began to evolve and it evolved with the start of color on the page.
The first page that I called a "journal page" still remains quite vivid in my mind. It started with a large fish rubber stamps, some Portfolio Water Soluble Oil Pastels, a black marker and a large blank notebook already filled with notes, ideas and visions of grandeur.
As I gazed at the page with colorful, floating fish, I asked myself "what do I know about fish?" So, with a few wavy lines for my "fish list" added to the page I recalled the little fishy song from long long ago and there it was "they swam and they swam all over the damn". Totally non-committal in any way, shape or form. Whew! I did it! I created a journal page and I did it all by myself.
My journey began with a fish, a song and some color and as I look back I say to myself,
"that was easy and I didn't have to reveal any of those deep dark secrets that everyone in world is dying to know about me.
|A colorful page just waiting for words|