12 Pains of Christmas

Christmas in July is something that most people are familiar with. It is normally either a massive sale, or holiday items, sometimes a massive sale of holiday items.

"12 Pains of Christmas" is also a Bob Rivers song, parody of "12 Days of Christmas" and one of my favorite BR songs. Fitting title for this post, methinks.

The only thing I will say about this entry is it was THE single most painful one to create, thus far. If you know the story, you will recognize it immediately. You will also know why it was so painful to create, and know that this page will haunt me the rest of my days on this planet.

You can click the picture to see a bigger image of it. I have to resize my pics to get them to fit in my columns. Some of the details will be clearer after enlarging, and the pic will open in a new window.

Time for change

This is another 2 pager, but the second page isn't finished. This is the only entry in my art journal that I haven't finished in one sitting. (mainly because good pictures of mirrors are hard to find)

My pages take anywhere from a few minutes to a few HOURS to create. It depends on what I'm trying to say, and the ease in which I find what I need.

I've been working on this one off an on for about a month now. If I am able to finish this one in the next century, I'll post the right side of it, as this is the left page, and I have deemed this one "done".

Home

This is a massive 2-pager. Yes, two entire pages in my journal. They sit side by side for maximum effect.

My husband and I are trying to buy the house we are currently renting. The landlord is trying to sell it, and I'm DONE with moving and DONE with shitty landlords.

These two pages are an attempt at "self fufilling prophecy". Nothing cryptic, nothing to explain. It is right in front of your eyes.

Oh, and please send warm fuzzy thoughts. We are || that close to getting the house.

Left page:



Right page:

Loss for words...?

I knew what I wanted to say. I knew how to say it. I said everything I needed to say with this page.

To date, it is the most cryptic of my entries and no one has yet figured it out. You get a cookie and 10 cool points if you post the correct answer in the comments on this post.

Artsy, for art's sake

Word of warning: do NOT leave anything in my house that you don't want me to potentially use for art. This includes "silver colored", shiny tape stuff.

I am not sure what the tape was *really* intended for, but before it wound up on a page in my art journal, my warped ex-neighbor used it for wrapping paper at christmas.

I am really glad the scan didn't kill my scanner, but the sheer shiny mirror finish of it didn't show well in the end scan. It looks like shades of grey coloring, but I'm sure you can use your imagination while you try to figure this one out.

Not everything is as it seems v2.0

My idea of art isn't your idea of art, but it is my oasis while I'm adrift in a barren sea of raw emotion and this is the only outlet.

Not everything is as it seems v1.0

Are you sure this is a happy, positive entry?

Optimism

Feeble attempt at optimism. There are, however, other tones in this post...my OCD rampaging through. Can you find it?

I was cold

I was freezing cold the day I made this. I couldn't wait for summer, and now that it's here, I don't want it to leave.

Hope Floats, Karlee style.

From the volumes of pain and searching for hope.

For Gerty

To Gerty,
From Ethel

29 days!



Now go write your paper.

This one just cause I like the colors:

Today's projects

Without further ado...todays crafty stuff. Or at least some of it.

Harvey-ette (sorry about the messy bed and rather unprofessional picture, I was in a hurry and had just rescued a cat from under the porch):







Today's art journal page:




I used regular acrylic paint, glitter glue, and one of the aforementioned cheap plastic gems. One of my friends just told me it's painful to look at, because of the message it carries. I told her if she thinks that one is bad, she should see the ones from yesterday.

Part of letting go is admitting. I admitted. I've let go a little more today.

Busy crafting

I've been busy all day, crafting.

I finally got the Harvey-ette sewed, which was no minor feat. The first three times I tried to sew her, she fell apart. MENTAL NOTE: do not use flannel backed satin to sew stuffed animals. The fun fur worked MUCH better.

I browsed for a while on iHanna and decided to dig out my old ceramics paints. I used to paint ceramics like a mad woman, but ran out of people to give them to, and no one wanted to buy them on my eBay days, so I gave up. I hung on to the paint though, I'm not one for throwing away my stash of anything.

So after my read on iHanna, I got out my paints, and my glitter, and glitter glue, antique stamps, brushes of all shapes and sizes, a few beads, and of course, the hateful little plastic gems that I could "never find a good thing for, but had to have anyway".

I'm almost done with a journal page, I'm waiting for paint and glitter glue to dry. Scans will have to wait until later because I don't want to goop up my scanner with glitter glue.

I dug out a wooden box that I had woodburned and couldn't sell, a box of somesort of wierd cardboard material that I'd made a (horrible) attempt at decoupage on, and my stash of ACEO blanks from recycled kitchen cardboard (pasta box, tea box, and old cereal box). Some of that is still waiting for the gesso to dry, and some has an initial coat of paint on it. I don't have a set plan for either of the boxes, but I'm sure they'll turn out better than they were when I started...the cards are going to be abstract paints, that hopefully, will sell.

Don't look too hard for yesterday's journal pages, they are a little too personal for me to feel comfortable to share, but todays, I'll show you. Look for other pics later (as in, after everything dries) of my crafty adventures for today.

Had a rollercoaster day

Yesterday was rough on me for a few reasons, and after reading the daily newspaper on my breaks, I decided that I couldn't wait to get home and mess in my art journal.

I showed it to my husband, and he appreciated it for what it was, without trying to interpret it. I love him for that. He said it was nice to look at, even if it was cluttered.

Without explination of any of it, here it is. I did two pages yesterday, because one page wouldn't hold everything I needed to say.

Feel free to try to interpret it any way you choose, or just sit back and enjoy the art.



































I used bits of yesterday's newspaper and some neat clippings from my two magazines. I embellished with gel pen and colored pencils, since I can't seem to find my craons, my art paints are packed, and crayola doesn't seem to sell watercolor pencils in my town anymore.

Art Journal

This is my new art journal. I was inspired by iHanna, a swedish woman about my age, who has a fantastic blog here.

She has inspired me in ways I didn't think possible, but yet in ways I wanted. I've always had a love for decoupage, and through reading her blog, I found that it's really ok for me to tear up a newspaper or cut up a magazine.

I've been journaling for years upon years. It is something I learned way back when. I have battled depression for just about as long as I can remember, and I had a couselor who encouraged me to write it down.

I stopped for a few years, due to the fact that everything I wrote, despite being supposedly private, was read and ceremoniously torn to shreds and often burned to ashes in front of my eyes.

A few years ago I discovered blogging, and for some reason, felt solace in letting people read my innermost thoughts and feelings. I guess deep down I knew that it wouldn't be ripped up and burned when they were done reading it.

My husband respects areas of my life that had been tread upon before, and 9 or so years after the abuse ended, I'm feeling more secure in myself and my writings, and starting to put it on paper. He doesn't go looking for my writings, and when I feel the need to share, he nods as he reads, with thoughtful appreciation, instead of getting angry, tearing it up, and beating me within an inch of my life.

iHanna has silently and unknowingly led me to the belief that it is ok to express myself through both words and pictures. Sometimes pictures are all I have for ways of expressing myself, because words often fail me. I'm not sure I'll ever find the words (or pictures) to thank her, or even the nerve to contact her, but regardless, I'm eternally grateful.

The picture of the cover of my art journal says lots of things. Can you see it?

I'm sure the pictures jump out and scream at you first, because they are in color, but do you see the words? "It's ART when you see past the clutter" I'm a clutterbug. I don't think many people see past that clutter to see me, but that's ok, I guess.

There is the word "freedom" there, also. I'm free from the bounds of the abuse that held me prisoner for so long. I'm finally letting go, and another step of letting go is with that journal.

"Journal" is partly covered by the heart. I'm not sure why I did that, but it's there. I got so tired of trying to hide my writings on scraps of paper hidden in my sock drawer, or under the mattress of my son's bed. I want it known that my new book is a journal, but the "al" is covered up. Maybe I did that because "Journal" can also be "Journey" if you change the last two letters.

Life is a journey. It's been a hell of a ride for me.

The horse and the heart and the flower are all things that represent freedom to me. The horse is obvious. The heart because I've learned to love again, and learned to love myself. The flower because it grows. It doesn't care if it's pretty or not, it doesn't care if it's judged, it just exsists. It does it's job and goes on. It is free from the bounds of human society that hold us all in a painful grip.

The newspaper background is the clutter of my daily life around me.

This very well may be the only explination I give for any of my art. You will probably be left up to your own devices to decide why I picked something to paste in the pages of my journal, or stuff on to a little art card, or even onto a little box, that may be for sale some day on ArtFire.

Maybe, instead of trying to find out what I mean, you can see past the clutter, and just enjoy the art!