painting

Visual Journalling

| Sheree

 

[[Method:  A double page spread in journal. First covered in paints, a mixture of colours are smeared across the page with a disused credit card. Once dry,  images that take my fancy are stuck on along with text gathered from magazines. Then selected pages from the novel, The Girl Who Fell From The Sky – Heidi Durrow , are cut up to create something new, a poem. My handwriting can be seen added also with black ink, asking the question, why keep a creative sketchbook?]]
 

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.

You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. …No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.

—Martha Graham, from The Life and Work of Martha Graham

 

What is my visual journalling? Why keep a creative sketchbook? What does it mean to me?

Visual journalling is a practice which I started two years ago taking inspiration from Lisa Sonora’s online course, Dreaming on Paper. 
My visual journal is my method, my way of remaining open to the life force, that creative energy that flows through me. When I enter my journal with paint, image and text, I am acknowledging to myself that I am paying attention to me.

Many moons ago I was introduced to Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages. Taken from The Artist’s Way , this is three pages of long hand writing as soon as I wake up in the morning. This is me getting whatever is in my head; worries, feeling, thoughts, moans and groans onto the page. Once out of my head, there is space for the good stuff to come through. My writing. My creations. My dreams.

 

[[ Method: A double page spread of added pages to customise my journal. Extra pages are created from full pages torn from magazines and then cut down if needs be to fit being stuck in with glue or sticky tape.  This creates an extra flap of space. Then it’s covered with lined paper, to write on and then covered with coloured tissue paper to add texture and sound. Cut out text, ‘flow’, added from magazine also.]]
 

Two years ago, my Morning Pages were not enough. Words had become my enemy, they were tricky and taboo. I was afraid of the blank page. It also become evident, that when I did write, the words themselves on the page where not enough. I wasn’t feeling the joy I once felt from just writing. My soul wasn’t being filled with light or colour. Everything seemed flat and lifeless.

While on holiday in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, relaxing away from it all, I found the space to play. Taking Lisa’s course enabled me to break through barriers and fears. I started listening to my instinct instead of adhering to any external rules and I began to smear paint on the blank page.  Red, yellow, orange, blue. Any colour that took my fancy, mixed with others. This movement of colour inspired me.  Loosened me up. Gave me permission to start feeling I was enough. I was ready then to add my dreams, plans, wishes,  and worries also to the page but it felt safe. I felt safe by getting more and more in touch with my internal voice. With my authentic self.

Mixing paint, colours, images, photography, words, quotes within my journal means I’m listening and observing, paying attention to what is pulling my soul, what is calling me to bring to life. What needs to sing?

I could not think of my life without my visual journalling now. I am completing my Creative Journey Facilitator Training  with Lisa Sonora at the moment, so that I can go deeper into this process as well as practice the tools and skills I’ll need to share my love of visual journalling with others. I’m so excited about taking this next step.

 

[[ Method: Paper cut up from Women Who Run With The Wolves – Clarissa Pinkola Estes. Looking to create a new text from the words. Pasted text on to a magazine image of wildflowers. ]]

a marrying of sites

| Sheree

“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”
― Margaret Atwood,

Since May 2015, I have lived a nomadic life on the internet. I have created two different websites, in addition to Living Wild Studios, since then.
August 1st 2015, saw Wild Soul Woman being born.
my new home
I created Wild Soul Woman as a safe place to heal. A safe place to heal after a very harrowing and very public shaming. Wild Soul Woman was a space from which to RISE.

A year on from then, and I felt the need for more space, more room to grow into the wild soul woman I was becoming. Bit by bit, day by day, I have been becoming a better version of myself. I have been becoming my authentic self.

Hence, Authentic SheShe was born as a blog where I shared my practice, lessons learnt, opportunities and love affair with creativity. Running parallel with this site was my site dedicated to ,my photography, presented under the title of Sheree Angela Matthews. I used this place as a showcase for my projects in progress as well as a portfolio.

Living Wild Studios is now my creative home, where I am finally sharing multi-coloured strands of my creativity all under one roof. Finally coming home to all of me. To the whole of me. Living wild, living true.

Please consider signing up for Studio Notes. You’ll find out what’s happening in the studios before anyone else!

Blog

evening

| Sheree

IMG_7050

The sun moves west. You walk the road out of town to meet it. Your progress is slow as you keep stopping to hold the moment. To wonder as the pinky peach light. In awe you question this reality. As the water lights up from within a golden glow that draws you closer. Close enough to touch. Something stirs inside you, deep within that sings in tune with this present.

A lonely concrete hut
rusty roof taste
metallic mixed with fear

April – A Poem A Day

threads

| Sheree

threads

#liberatedlines:: amplify :: day 6 #threads

Yeah man, I’m a strong black woman. Independent, resourceful, push me down and I get back up. ‘Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down. ‘ As the advert used to say.

Hell I’ve even been proud to state that I’m an independent black woman. But that’s not my whole story. This is not all of who I am. Something I have to explore and step out from behind this cardboard cut out of a woman of colour. And something those looking at me and judging have to realise; I am more than just one story. I have many multicoloured threads running through me that I am just starting to be brave enough to explore.

I’m an introvert. I hate crowds. I’d rather stay quiet that speak up and out.

I was a girl who idolised her daddy even though he beat her to keep her quiet.

I was a young woman who didn’t want to be like her mama; a virgin till married and then only being with one man for her life. So I slept around at Uni so I could at least feel I had variety. Even if none of them touched my heart or my ‘g’ spot.

I was the career woman following education’s path right up to doctorate level thinking at least then they would listen to me. Take me seriously. I was wrong.

I am the mother who is constantly second guessing herself if she’s doing a good enough job or not. This time, this energy could be better off just giving them my attention. My love.

I am the wife now who lives like a virgin.

I married a man who each day expects me to be that strong black woman. When each day all I want to do it climb into my woman cave and write. I want to dive deep inside of me to give in to all parts of me. To embrace the light and the dark. I want to be able to play in my shadows 24/7 and not have to worry I have to come back out to make the tea or go do the school run. I want to be free of this strong black woman hashtag so I can break apart, break down with the aim to build myself up in a different way. In a way more aligned with my soul, my heart, my voice. Not influenced by any outsiders or societal situations but staying true to the multicoloured threads that take their hue from the rivers flowing inside of me. Wild and free.

#liberatedlinesamplify

Malaga

| Sheree

malaga

So this happened to me today – Malaga. When a woman needs a rest, she can’t just go upstairs and lie down. No she’s got to get on a plane to southern Spain to feed her creativity, which has been banished for the last few months.

Ended up in a dive of a place I booked thru Airbnb – it was dirty and smelly. And there was a moment there when I was going to make do. I was thinking of ways to improve it – cleaning it, candles, new bedding would be a start.

Then I stopped myself; felt and knew I deserved better than this. I’m better than this.

I got back onto Airbnb and booked myself into a much nicer apartment. I’m not even thinking of the money, I’m thinking I must put my needs and wants first as no one else will. How could I relax if I was worried about what my skin came in contact with?

Now I’m settling in and letting myself put down my load. Not even the rain can dampen my mood.

I’ve never done this before. This blatant self-nurturing. This instinctive sense of doing the right thing by me.

I like it. I like it a lot.

#atthecrossroadsofshouldandmust #self-care #self-worth #enough #abundance #cleansheets #trust #intuition #listening #feeling #power #self-awareness #rewinding #authenticsheshe

Tags:

#atthecrossroadsofshouldandmust #self-care #self-w

Love Yourself Friday 

| Sheree

love youseslf

Yes I know today isn’t Friday. But I want to share with you something that happened to me a few months ago which I am proud of.

I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Phoenix Rising Collective, for their Love Yourself First Friday.
The aim of this special feature is to shed light on various ways we as women are practicing self-care, making it a priority in our lives.

After a couple of years of being in the doldrums and not being able to look myself in the eyes in the mirror, I feel I’ve come a long way to the point of actively practicing self-love. Maybe going through situations and experiences that others might recognise and gain insight from by sharing this way.

The question that struck home the most was; Is there an obstacle or challenge that you’ve overcome that lead you to a deeper love for who you are? In answer to this question, for the first time, I revealed my dirty secret. And it felt good to finally speak out about it.

Here is my answer and read the rest of the interview here.

“What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would spin open.” -Muriel Rukeyer

There comes a time in everybody’s life when the unspeakable happens. To say it hasn’t happened or won’t happen to you is a lie. You’re kidding yourself. Believe me.

In May 2015, the unspeakable happened to me. There was a public shaming. My whole world fell apart the day I was accused of being a plagiarist on Facebook by a ‘so-called’ friend and fellow poet. He wrote that he’d found whole scale “borrowings” from other writers’ words, phrases, and structures within my latest collection of poetry. He said that he was just doing his duty for the poetry community by bringing it to everyone’s attention. What followed was what I chose to call a public lynching of me as a writer, poet and person. This was the unspeakable that happened to me. But funny enough, I am speaking about it here, as well as writing a creative non-fiction book about this whole experience. Everything I knew, all I was, how I thought myself to be was taken from me in that public posting. I issued an apology regarding my unintentional mistakes and withdrew from the public realm. At one point, death looked a very promising course of action, but I had my family and some supportive friends who helped me.

Within the Chakra system there is a heart center called Anahata Chakra. In Sanskrit, Anahata means “Unstruck.” For me this speaks to the resilient nature of the human heart. I believe, wholeheartedly, that there is a place within my heart that is absolutely unbreakable. Thank you Chris Maddox for this wisdom.

This experience did break my heart, stopped me from loving, and shut me down and out. However, there was a minute part that kept pulsing, kept the light on for me. Maybe it was my belief in self, my self-love that got me through each day.

Each day has not been wasted. I have taken this experience as a wake-up call, a wake-up to explore and claim my authenticity. Afterwards, I had nothing. I couldn’t even look myself in the face at one point. But writing my book and starting to take photographs of myself have supported me in my climb up. I can’t say climb ‘back’, because who or what I am becoming, I do not know. I have never met this woman. I do know that love and self-love, first and foremost, are at the center of this journey.

How to express gratitude

| Sheree

Gratitude is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as ‘The quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.’
I’ve been trying to keep a gratitude journal for most of 2016, off and on. I usually have this little book by the side of my bed so I can capture three things that I am grateful for after each day. I know when I do this practice religiously, that I feel better about the day that has passed and I feel better about my life in general. But why do I find it so hard to keep up with this practice. Five minutes out of my day shouldn’t be such a big stretch. But I have found more times than not that I have missed days, weeks, months of expressing gratitude in this little book.
I don’t usually struggle in expressing my emotions, thoughts and feelings. I’m not usually reluctant to let those people around me know how much I care for them and appreciate them. I am thankful that they are in my life, just as much as I am thankful for this life I am living, creating. But there seems to be some kind of disconnect between the way I feel about my life and expressing gratitude for this life I’m living.
I know that showing gratitude naturally makes me more thankful and grateful for my life. It’s like a knock on affect, or a natural fertilizer. Sprinkling thanks upon my life, means that it grows even more brighter and satisfying. But there is something somewhere inside me resisting this practice.
Maybe there is some thought, some feeling inside me that believes I have nothing to be grateful for or that thinks I do not deserve to have the life I have. Really when I say thank you to someone, even to myself, do I really mean it?
I’m not sure I know the answers to these questions. I just know that I need to get back to my little book at the side of my bed and just start practicing. Maybe then all will be revealed.

Playing With Colour

| Sheree


I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I’m not even sure if ‘they’ would call it art.
I just know I’m having a good time.

I love colour. Always have. As a child, I would fill a piece of A4 white paper with doodles. I would colour the whole sheet in with colour. Different colours, All the colours I had in my colouring box. And then I would give these creations away.

I loved to give them to my Dad, as a sign of love. I wanted him to these creations to the bookies with him, to show to all his friends. To show how proud he was of me. To show them ( and me) how much he loved me.
I’m not sure if he did show his friends my colouring in. I just know I gave them to him, wanting him to be proud of me. To make him happy. To make him love me.

These days, as I sit quietly, swirling bright marker pens across a sea of white I feel a giddiness in my core. The fluttering of excitement starts in my belly and travels towards mt throat where it has to erupt into ‘aarrr’ or laughter. I experience pure joy at the sight of rich ruby red taking over white. Shocking pink crowding out white. Turquoise swimming into white territory. Witnessing colour moving into the blank spaces and taking over, talking and mingling with each other is a pleasure that I want to repeat again and again. Like an orgasm. I want more x