For a long time…this, up above, was my biggest anxiety producer. The blank page. yuck. But I was so attracted to paper and art journaling journals that I had tons of these lying around ( Because , you know, one day I was going to jump up and fill them with glorious pages of myself…lol.) So I would surf the net for inspiration. Talk to friends on facebook. Reorganize my art supplies. And usually after many hours wasted… end up with something that wasn’t really mine. Didn’t light me up. But I had put something down on the page. But what a waste of time it all usually was. Then one day I was lying in the bed looking at patterns in the tin ceiling. I had an Aha moment, because I realized….my mind doesn’t work from blank, it works from patterns. My whole life I’ve looked at patterns and deducted things from them. Patterns in the wood walls become bunnies and horses and monsters and creatures in my mind. It’s sort of the sculpting view of artmaking. I needed to have patterns for my mind to really work.
Now I work from old books…I add paint and paper and pens to the pages….in batches. Large batches. Then when I sit down to my journaling practice at night…I pick a page. I don’t ever do it all together anymore because I’ve found that background pages are in one compartment in my mind and painting/ seeing patterns is another. It just is. So now when I sit down to journal I’m looking at this….
or this work in progress….