SO ... HOW ARE YOU?

 

When asked the (routine) question "how are you" most of us say "fine" without thinking about it.  However, its long been a soapbox of mine that we shouldn't do that, so now when somebody claims to be "fine" I stop them and ask, "how are you really"?  This makes it plain that I'm really asking, not just mouthing polite pleasantries, and genuinely willing to listen to the truthful answer.  Try it and see, its a very powerful thing to do.

But of course, when it comes to myself ... its more difficult!  Let's face it, which of my friends and family really wants to know about my daily struggles with chronic pain and variable symptoms?  Its all a bit much to take on really, so I rarely give a completely truthful answer, preferring something non-specific like "good in parts", which covers all eventualities!  I SO don't want to become a moaning minnie type, always complaining ... so if you see me doing so you have my permission to tell me off very firmly indeed.

This page began with my trusty Neocolour crayons, some lettering out of my clippings box and a picture of Greta Garbo looking thoroughly fed  up!

Then as you can see below I set out my stall in terms of what I wanted to write about.  I really like squishing up the letters to fit the space, as I did in the word "question".

Didn't do nearly as much doodling and fiddling about with this as usual - it didn't seem to require it really, although I did have a go at poor Greta who looked altogether too beautiful and healthy.  Not sure why she ended up with a moutache though ....

I do like putting in arrows to lead the eye through the text, not to mention filling up big spaces, and the rest is just some white doodling and a rubber stamp.

So go on then, ask me how I am?  "Oh well, you know, good in parts" I may well reply, which is true.  Don't hang about after that though or I may regale you with the details of this flippin bad back I can't seem to shake off, although I am treating it with tried and tested home remedies such as chocolate cookies and Jack Daniels whiskey....

NOT ONE OF MY BETTER DAYS ...

 

.... but I guess you can figure that out from the main word?  The thing that is hard to explain about pain is that it makes you kind of crouch around it, as if you could protect yourself from it by curling up - which in turn can end up with you clenching your teeth,bunching your hands and hunching your shoulders etc., thereby actually making things a whole lot worse.  Don't imagine me rolling about in agony, because I'm not and (thank God) the painkillers do mop up most of it.  But sometimes they don't quite get enough of it, and then it takes an extraordinary amount of energy to deal with it, and can be very VERY tiring.

I forgot to take the very first picture which would have been the page below minus the writing - I'd done a prepared painted background (my favourite activity when there's nothing I feel moved to say, but the arty urge is upon me) so the purple and the arty pictures were already there.  Then one day I just wrote the word pain in big letters, and it went from there. 

For some reason I felt the need to compartmentalise the page into areas - maybe I was trying to get the pain safely into a box where I could contain it?  Perhaps its that pain days draw big black lines through what I can and can't do with my day?  Possibly all of these and more, the subconscious being a funny old thing. Like the houses at the bottom which came to represent how I end up stuck inside and unable to go out.  Or the eye which I think is the all-seeing thing, where even though I'm hiding away wrapped around and inside my pain, someone sees and cares ...

It doesn't take a genius to figure out why the decorative bits are somewhat jagged - and if you're interested the white is done with my rather nifty Posca paint pen.  I didn't think this was much good until I tried it on a painted background, whereupon it worked brilliantly and much better that it does on neocolour backgrounds!  Lesson learned, and I promptly bought some more colours.

And here it is finished - it doesn't SAY a lot, but it says enough, and something I needed to get down on paper.  There aren't too many days like this, for which I'm profoundly grateful, but I wanted to record for myself what it feels like when those days come.  I guess it isn't too self-indulgent, and genuinely belongs in my journal with all my other experiences, reflections and recordings, as part of my life.  Even if I do wish it would Go Away. 

Zero Tolerance???

 

Only two pictures of this page because I completely forgot to take photos as I went along .... I blame menopausal brain death!

However you can probably see below how it started out - as a painted background onto which I stencilled with a lighter blue.  The bird on the line are done with washi tape, and I couldn't resist this stone angel!  That was as far as I got for a while .... I do sometimes work that way, just make the "beginnings" of a page and then let it lie awhile until I'm ready to work on it.  Sometimes I never get to that point, and then I might gesso over it or cover it with paper.

However, on this occasion I found the words zero tolerance in a newsletter and knew immediately what I wanted to write about ... the question I keep asking myself, why I am becoming so much less tolerant of bad spelling and rudeness and any number of other things as I get older?  I don't know - does it have something to do with having less time ahead of you than behind?  Other people I ask about it say they are the same, but I never WANTED to be a grumpy old bat making speeches to people that begin with "young man .....".  Lord, maybe I'm becoming my mother????

So then of course it was dead easy to come up with a whole list of stuff that makes me cross ... and I could have written more!  Except of course that I didn't want to admit (even to myself) just how very VERY cranky I can be...

And finally of course I had to add my usual doodling just in case the page looked a bit empty - but now I look I seem to have drawn fireworks??  All this tells you that I hav, alas, become the proverbial grumpy person you would do well not to cross - perhaps the angel's tears are for the nice person I used to be??? Help.

TRYING TO BECOME .....

 

I seem to be having a dry spell art-wise at the moment ... which is fine, it goes like that at times.  The one page I have done since our holiday is this one ....

A Neocolour (Caran d'Ache crayons) background - what else - and then the panels which look a bit like vertebrae have been added with Promarkers.  Provided the crayon isn't put on too thickly the markers work really well on top.

This thought came out of one of our bible readings at church (totally forgotten which one!) which set off a train of thought about life as a process of becoming rather than a pursuit of personal fulfilment or happiness.  In other words, the idea that I am a Work in Progress, as yet unfinished, but nonetheless someone who has learned and grown much so far .....

Once I'd developed the lettering the "vertebrae" patterns I'd doodled on tended to fade into the background a bit, so I outlined them to help them "pop" off the page.  I think the backbone pattern I can see here (even if you can't!) may have subliminal meaning, as in the basic bones or structure of my days.  OK and maybe not!  After that I just sort of doodled to my heart's content.

And the result is not a bad reflection of where I am right now - sort of drifting/doodling about, settling to nothing much, yet with a sense of good things ahead .... which is an OK sort of place to be.  August is like that anyway; all committee meetings and other "stuff" stops for the summer, so its a good time to just rest and float about a bit. After all, its not necessary to always be achieving something or growing as a person .... sometimes its just about being and listening.

Don't look back ....

I should begin by saying that I don't actually like this page ....it was heading in the right direction but then I spoiled it by over-decorating.  I don't care though because on this occasion its the message to myself that really matters.  Come to think of it, my sermons are a bit the same!

I quite liked it at this early stage - painted background again, you can't say I lack perseverance can you?  I may have mentioned that I'm not a huge fan of paint.  The page is these colours because I was picking them up from this wonderful image which I absolutely LOVE.  The slightly wistful look, the doubt in her eyes, the way she seems to be turning back and asking "is this OK"?  Well that's what it says to me anyway ...

And that's what made me write these words - because I know I have a dreadful tendency to look back and wish that I'd made different decisions, but I also know that's a completely pointless exercise.  What's done is done and can't be changed, but you can learn from both positive and (particularly) negative experiences.  Most of all I refuse to endlessly rehearse what I could or should have done differently.  I will not be defined by the difficulties of my early life, or the fact that it took me so long to develop emotional intelligence - what matters is that I worked at it and got there in the end.

Then this was where it all began to go wrong as I drew wierd splodges - they remind me of lava lamps back in my distant youth, and in the same way these are pointless blobs which (in my eyes at least) add nothing to the page.  The one on the top right even looks like some sort of green octopus!  Where the heck did that come from?

I knew it wasn't right but thought a bit of doodling would fix it.  It didn't.  Hey ho.  I wanted to share both the important message which reminds me to stop wallowing, but also to let you know that just like everybody else I can make horrible pages that I don't like (we all do) but still feel comfortable leaving them in place because they also have their place in the journal. In the same way some of the pages of my life are not ones I'm proud of, they aren't pretty, but like it or not they were and are signposts on the way to something better.

In a funny sort of way this page actually works, because I'm not distracted from the core message by pretty stuff I really like.

Its really important to my journey that I don't allow the past drag me down or hold me back, but to build on both good and bad something better and more beautiful,  always working towards becoming the person I am meant to be....  That'll be a Work In Progress then!


PS
I found this on Pinterest. I think this is what all the rambling above is trying to say .....

Just for me ....

The other day I was working in my journal and decided I didn't like the page I was working on.  At some level I think I also felt that it wasn't quite "arty" enough ... and then had to laugh at myself for coming up with such a ridiculous notion!  The whole point of the journal for me is the reflection on life, the universe and everything - good, bad, indifferent, puzzling or confusing, or indeed all these things at once!

So I needed to remind myself that anything, and I do mean absolutely anything goes.  You can put one big word in the middle of the page, draw a tree and then write about something completely different, consider the social habits of polar bears, whatever floats your boat.  You can stick pictures down and not draw or write anything unless YOU want to!  The point is that you enjoy and get something from the process, and that the final page kind of speaks to you of the journey you went on in making it.

So I covered up the work I'd done - and I didn't even paint or ink it but "cheated" and used scrapbook paper!  The purists would say that's NOT ALLOWED and isn't arty wouldn't they?  Off with their heads.  Then I stuck some random pictures on top for no better reason than that I liked them - which is good enough for me.

The red welly is just fun, and I'd rather like to live near the sea one day.  The stamp is one I've had for ages and LOVE, but rarely seem to use, and the teacup is just, well, there.  Then I went even further against the purists, and I didn't even write my words - but typed them on the computer and cut them out in strips.  Its a technique I use a lot in my scrapbooks, and it looks good here too - don't you just love old typewriter fonts?  I do but couldn't exactly explain why.

And when I'd done all that I wrote some little bits and drew a few doodles, just because I wanted to and not because I thought I should!   I like this page, its different, its fun, and it reminds me to loosen up and just go with the flow.

A journal is for YOU, and you need to be able to feel that you can put anything in it.  I make a few very personal pages which I don't publish, so its completely up to you who sees or doesn't see what you do.  If its going to have value to you then you have to be free to do whatever you like with it, and if you aren't enjoying that process why are you doing it??

I will climb down off my soapbox now and continue work on the covers of my next journal - this one is filling up nicely.

Fear and Loathing ...?

 

Great title innit?  This page came about when I found these words in my box of media clippings, and just knew I had to use it.  I should  probably issue a Health Warning at this point that if your politics are not broadly central to left, you are unlikely to enjoy what follows and should turn away now. 

I'd already made a nice purple background and even used a few stencils - another thing I struggle to love, maybe because I prefer drawing/doodling.  Anyway, having met my personal challenge to constantly try to work outside my comfort zone, I felt free to do whatever I liked with the rest of the page.....

And what came POURING out were my feelings about the unkindness of the present coalition government and its policy of protecting the rich and penalising the poor.  Got some things off my chest here, particularly concerning the so-called skivers and shirkers ... I loathe how we are increasingly hearing the language of the Workhouse, and the re-emergence of the horrible idea that people are only poor because they are shiftless and lazy.  Heck, don't get me started, I'm afraid this is going to turn into something of a rant.  You have been warned.

The Christian faith I live by has (or should have) an inbuilt "bias to the poor", and it is a given that you help those in need without judgement or precondition.  Whether we're people of faith or not, its been said that the measure of a civilised society is how it treats its most vulnerable members ..... well I rest my case on that one.

So the purple page led to some purple prose on this occasion, which gave me a chance to air some of my despair at the things being said and the policies being enacted.  I'd like to send the Cabinet to spend a day down at our local Food Bank (run by the Salvation Army) which our church supports.  I'd like to say to those who bang on about welfare rates being too high, or how they aren't going to support the feckless through their taxes .... hang on a minute, I live on welfare!  I don't have a choice because I've been disabled by a chronic condition.  Before that I worked and paid into the system for many years, and at quite a high rate.  Now I am unable to work but still do the best I can to continue to make a difference in society, and I'm not getting anything for free or that I'm not entitled to.  Its not YOUR taxes that pay my benefit, but mine, the ones I already paid, the insurance scheme I contributed to all my working life.  Remember too that things don't always go the way we hope, and redundancy or foreclosure can happen to you too, so think hard before you consent to welfare being cut or programmes dismantled.

OK, I will crawl back into my box now and mutter quietly to myself.  I might recommend you leave me there until I recover my normally sunny and optimistic temperament.  It may take some time.  I leave you with one thought - which is that its been calculated that the average person is 3 pay packets away from total meltdown.  That is, once they'd missed those three they'd be seriously struggling - unable to pay their rent or mortgage, their bills, and what about those credit card debts?  Don't JUDGE people on welfare - most of them are just like you, going through a bad patch.  Keep paying your taxes and pray like hell that when/if you ever need support it will still be there to help you through.

DREAMING ...

When I was a child, if someone called you a "dreamer" it wasn't a compliment!  It meant a failure to concentrate, to be fully present, or something like that.  Now I think that the world would be an infinitely poorer place if there were no dreamers ... and that's what this page is about.  At least I think it is, I'm never sure these days!  If it says something else to you that's fine, and part of the magic.

It began with me making blobby shapes on the page with my Caran D'Ache neocolour crayons - my favourite art material.  As you know, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with paint.  As ever I was challenging myself to push the boundaries of how I usually work, so hence a slightly off the wall colour combination ....

When I look at the basic page above, I STILL don't like it, and am mildly surprised that it didn't end up as one of those (admittedly few) that I eventually hate so much I tear them out.  But I didn't, and the urge to write on it came instead.

This was another of those times when the thought seemed to come out of nowhere, but the more I reflected on it the more important it seemed.  I know now that it is undoubtedly a message I was meant to receive (I know where from but you can make your own mind up about that).  I'd been thinking a lot about the necessity of laying down some of my long-time dreams and admitting that they were things which just weren't ever going to happen.  For example, in my teens I'd wanted desperately to go to art school, but my mother poured scorn on the very idea and sent me to learn shorthand typing instead.  Yeah right.  Not long ago my darling man said - well if you still want to, why don't you just GO? 

I thought about it, very hard indeed, but realised two things.  One was that I could no longer physically manage the demands of doing such a course, and so couldn't get the best out of it.  The second was the realisation that I genuinely didn't need to - not that I don't have much to learn, because I do, but perhaps I already am the artist I was meant to become?  That was SO liberating, and allowed me to let go of the anger I'd nursed for too long about my youthful dreams being so carelessly squashed. 

So this is the finished page - quite a simple one for me, and the doodling very restrained!  The other thing I learned from this exercise was that when you let go of old dreams which are no longer relevant to the person you now are, it makes a space for new ones to come in .....  I wish I'd understood that earlier in my life, but in some areas I'm a slow learned!

I still don't like these colours, or the blobby shapes, very much, but the beauty of art journalling is in how it is able to release things that need to be expressed or let go of, so this page is precious to me - not because it is beautiful, but because of what doing it released and enabled within me.

We had a fabulous holiday in New England, but its rather nice to be home again ....

GOOD IDEAS?

 

This page began with the light bulb picture which I cut out of a magazine - it just sparked something on the subject of ideas generally really.  I always keep interesting bits and pieces like this picture - I may not always use them, but fundamentally they are free, and a rummage through the box in search of inspiration can be very fruitful!

The other thing I sometimes do (when I'm feeling lazy anyway) is use a piece of scrapbook paper as a background.  This page is a case in point - although as you can see I've added some green and yellow/brown crayon around the edges too.  My light bulb was stuck on with glue and it went a bit bubbly at first, but what the heck, and anyway it settled down when the page dried properly.

So my jumping off point was to write about my good ideas on the light bulb in white pen, but I didn't know until I started to do it that I'd also write about forgetting most of them.  This is a bittersweet truth in my life because memory and concentration are affected by Fibromyalgia, and I could win prizes for forgetting stuff.  I have to laugh about it a lot of the time, though it makes my children crazy (but mum I told you) not to mention my Dearly Beloved, but I can't help it honestly. I used to be quite clever actually - I have to tell you that or you'd never suspect!

Once again this gives you a mini tutorial on how I write in quite simple letters and then go back and embellish/thicken them.  As you can see I vary the size of the lettering, and include both capitals and lower case - just practice, you'll soon get the hang of it.

Anyway, what was I talking about?  Oh yes, forgetting stuff.  I do write lists obviously, but then I lose the lists, or forget where I've put them.  Also, even when I do remember them, some of my best ideas don't look so great the next day .... but that's life innit?  The other light bulb is a hand-carved rubber stamp I bought on Etsy, I absolutely LOVE it and was waiting for a chance to use it.  This face stamp is one I use a lot, generally to represent me, particularly in my more "duh" slightly blank moments.

I added the teal green stamp shapes after the writing, as you can see, but by masking areas I wanted to protect it worked out OK.  The skeleton stamp is just fun ... but also has meaning for me in terms of the joke that life often is, particularly in relation to my loss of brain power.  Well I geddit...

I rather like the muted shades on this page, which I probably wouldn't have done without the background paper.  Notice that I haven't done nearly as much doodling as I sometimes do!  This is the sort of reflecting about life, the universe and everything that I really like to include in my journal, just because it makes me smile when I read back ....

That's it from me for a couple of weeks as we are off to New England to sit daydreaming by a river, which will be very good for our souls which are much in need of rest and refreshment.  Hopefully some warmth might be good for my poorly shoulder as well?  Back in early July when the jet lag has worn off ...

 

Journalling is a brilliant way to work through something which has got right on your nerves .... it will be obvious that somebody had once you've read the words on this, but it was a couple of months back and I'm over it now!!

In our organisation there is somebody who, more than once, has spoken a quiet word in the ear of somebody I'm close to, in the certain knowledge that this will then be relayed to me.  I can't be alone in finding this pretty infantile ... if you have something to say, come find me and we'll talk about it.  Nuff said anyway - that's exactly what this person isn't grown up enough to do, so even though I could force the issue by confronting them ... in the interests of peace between us all I won't.  Doesn't mean it didn't get right up my nose though.

So there I was with a ready made (Neocolour Crayons) background and a set of letter stamps and this is what happened ...

And before I knew it I'd got stuff off my chest and onto the page, all the while rehearsing the pithy things I would have to say on the subject.  Of course none of them were actually said, but thinking about it and composing a fine speech took the wind out of my sails and (most of) the irritation out of my heart soon enough.

And once that had happened I was free to doodle away - you know how much I enjoy that.  Touches of zentangle about this too - a technique I admire and don't use as often as I might.

The doodly bits were a visual representation of creeping rumours, and whispers in the dark, and all that stuff I hate so much because I'm a dead straight and up front sort of gal.  I work hard at responding like an adult and get frustrated when the inner child of others is clearly in control.  This kind of passive/aggressive behaviour lights my blue touch paper ...

Did I say I was over it?  Hmmmm apparently not, obviously more prayer necessary not to mention forgiveness on my part.  Hard isn't it?

CONNECTED ...?

Ever had one of those moments of insight when all of a sudden you feel connected to everything else, and just for a millisecond the universe makes sense, and so does your part in it?  Well I did, but it passed and anyway I don't get them often, so this page was to record the blessed event when just for a moment I (sort of) understood.....

This background is PAINTED!  If you're a regular here then you know I do not love paint, but every now and again I force myself to get it out and play with it.  My school art teacher said that orange and pink don't "go", but he was wrong.  They look glorious together, but I've only discovered that in the last decade!  Oh the dreadful things we tell children.

On top of the paint a border - a wobbly double line drawn with black marker.  I noticed how the spaces between the black bits were all different colours, so I accented that later with Promarkers.  The first border then got a white edge done with my white Posca paint pen - which works brilliantly on top of paint, if not anything else.  The rest of the space got filled in with black.  Amazing how different it now looks from the basic paint above?

I had seen a tree of life type symbol somewhere and this was my attempt at imitation - I liked the idea of above and below ground, it speaks to me of my roots running deep in good stuff, and my branches always reaching, stretching out and farther.  I know what I mean even if I'm not putting it very well.  The writing seemed to belong in the middle - in that space between heaven and earth?

Then finally it was down to the fiddly bits I love so much, and more writing in among the roots and branches.  I even added a little bird who seemed to belong there - maybe I should have given him a nest?

I also gave the main lettering drop shadows - interesting how it really lifts it and makes the writing jump off the page?

By the way, sorry if I've not been posting quite as regularly of late, like every 10-14 days rather than weekly.  On top of my other woes I have a frozen shoulder which is making me feel quite sorry for myself, and not much like doing art.  I have been cruising Ebay instead, which is very bad for the bank balance .....

DRAMA ...

 

This page is about something which has been overshadowing my/our lives for some time, which I can't describe for you because it concerns someone else it wouldn't be fair to speak about here.  However, you can see that this was a really powerful way to work through my feelings at the time, and I'm pleased to report that after years of being conflicted about it, resolution came quite easily and suddenly and magically the solution seems to be working for everyone involved.

As so often the page began with a background done with my Neocolour crayons from Caran D'Ache, and then ferreting about in my box of newspaper/magazine clippings produced the dramatic image below.  It really spoke to me because it seemed to be about hiding ... and I felt like I was having to hide my true feelings about the situation, particularly my anger and resentment.  The dramatic element also seemed to fit as we lurched from drama to crisis and back again.

I wanted to get a border around this page - perhaps instinctively I wanted to contain these feelings?  The word "drama" also got pulled out of the box, and I just really liked the number which doesn't actually mean anything but might if you see what I mean!

A lot of people have been kind enough to comment on my lettering - which began as a sincere imitation of Teesha Moore's but I hope has now morphed into something more truly my own.  My besetting sin is to write in straight lines across the page, not to mention making all the letters the same size (its the neat freak/straightist in me) so I was making a determined effort to break out of that.  Look, I even put the word "drama" on the page at an angle!  Bet you're proud of me.

I'm SO pleased with the way the writing curves around and even overlaps an element - why can't I  do that all the time?  Guess it will take practice to persuade myself that random is good ...

But in the end the best part is how this page worked as therapy - expressing that I felt powerless helped me to deal with it, and made it OK to live with it.  If you really can't change something why waste your energy kicking against it, right?  Then having come to that acceptance .... just a few days after I made this the doors I'd been banging on suddenly opened, and everything changed.  Evidence for the existence of God I'd say .... :)