Journal Keeping

                                                   From Diary to Journal

When I was young we all kept diaries.  They would hold our most secret thoughts, dried flowers from a prom corsage, tickets to a rock concert, always travel tickets and often a special note or token from an adventure.  Occasionally I would sketch a flower, tree, bird or something that caught my fancy. Somehow these tidbits of memories and fun would turn into fanciful pages.....all without the slightest effort.  Fancy gift wrapping, tickets, flowers would somehow form to tell a story abut our lives.  How I wish I still had some of those pages to reflect on today. 

Fast forward many, many years and I am still keeping a diary, albeit today it is a journal.  I especially take pleasure in writing about my travels.  I could share with you the favorite Tratorria in Italy, or the amazing little gift shop on a back alley in Paris, but the most pleasure giving pages are the ones that carry with them the sketch of a door or building or the chic young lady drinking an espresso.  Along with these are stories to tell, some from my imagination, some from ease dropping or just some historical tidbit. Many pages I would not hesitate to share with you, but many more fall short of what I would call perfection. That is not the purpose.  If you only strive for perfection, then you will loose that ability to be spontaneous and it is that spontaneity that brings forth the best work.   Mostly I tell myself to just let it rip...most likely I will be the only one to see what I accomplished that day anyway, and often a sketch, good or bad, will turn into something I will work on in the studio.  

Years ago while living in England, I purchased a Barbour bag, and it stands ready, like an emergency bag, and travels wherever I go. Tucked in that bag is a black journal, small water color set. empty spice jar for water, pencils and a few ink pens. I never want to loose a memory to a lost moment. If time is short, then I will take a picture of what I want to capture in hopes that the time lingers on in my mind. I could probably count 20 journals lined up in my studio and each one tells its own unique story.

Start simple, I tell my students, and don't compare your work with others. What lays in your journal is what is peculating in your mind and your artistic interpretation. 

The picture of the door is from Mexico and is done with a fairly dry brush.  Paints dry fast there and it is easier to use less water...that and in itself creates a vision.

 I awoke this morning to the sun laying an orange blanket over the San Jacinto Mountains, a slight breeze rustling the Palm Fronds and the Black Phoebe chirping by the pool. This short play by Mother Nature took a soul on the brink of depression and planted a seed of hope. No matter how much abuse we heap on her, she wakes up each day anew to give us hope.  No matter the gloom of the day, in rain or sleet, she teaches us that the sun will shine again.  She is resilient; so can we be.

No matter your side on politics or religion, it has been a tumultuous few years. I doubt there is a person on this planet that hasn't been gripped by the atmosphere that has swirled around us. We have lost friends and family to distraught emotions, illness, and, sadly even death. There have been days when I have felt that my body has been turned inside out and my heart exposed to every emotion known to mankind. With each of these days,if we look hard, we can use the  knowledge we have gleaned from Mother Nature. The same hope that we see when the sun shines, or we walk down a path where jasmine lingers in the air, or a bird chirps by your ear, or you just breathe in the freedom of fresh air. You realize those are the things that get our feet to move, our hearts to sing and our soul to find contentment. 

As a writer and artist, I can take the toughest days and loose myself in hours of creativity.  My art lingers for hours, peculating new ideas and thoughts and and carrying my angst away like the Santa Anna winds, which just happens to be blowing today. 

I've noticed that the writing is a bit more muddled with angst and the art has taken on multiple personalities, but they are there awaiting.....awaiting the new day, new thoughts and new hope.