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.
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.
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.
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!
It is Post Secret Archives meets Decoupage and Collage (not to be confused with college).
This is me letting go of things that bother me, but often just expressing how I feel or what I want.
There is a lot of pain in these posts and in my pages. I can't bottle it up, but I can't talk to anyone about it either. (Some of the posts will have nothing to do with my mental state, and I'm just showing off something I made, either to sell or keep.)
I've been down many roads, some painful, some almost deadly, others were a squidge of happiness. Depression is an evil thing, and chronic depression is worse. Don't let my exterior fool you, for what is inside is worse than a nightmare.
Don't pity me. That isn't a request, it is an order. Some paths I chose to take, others were my only option, but regardless, they were mine and mine alone. Everything happens for a reason, and my reasons may remain unknown, even after my demise.
Take my pain-induced art and enjoy it for what it is. It is unique, it is a style all my own, and I'm putting it on display for you to enjoy. Yes, I want you to enjoy my pain because of the creativity it brings me.
But. If you don't like it or are uncomfortable with it, please find the "x" in the upper right corner of your screen and it will bother you no more. Do not compound my pain by leaving nasty or rude comments, for they will likely be put on display as well.