Some days you come to the page and you just need a good talking to. A boost to the ego or little child within. Some days you’re holding out for a cheerleader.
I can be just that for myself in my visual journal. In that very moment of need and then later when circling back, rereading pages down the line, I get another boost as the sentiments call out to me again.
You’ve got this Sheree, I believe in you!
When asked what I do, for a few years now I’ve replied by saying, ‘I’m Creatrix.‘
The bio I send out when requested reads as: “I’m Creatrix : she who makes, with a practice which manifests through poetry, storytelling, image and the unfolding histories of Black people. I engage audiences around Black women’s voices and bodies, black feminism, ecology and memory, nature and wellbeing, trauma and healing . I advocate for Black women’s voices, facilitating national and international creative workshops and retreats in the landscape, encouraging and supporting women on their journey of remembrance back to their bodies and authentic selves.”
But what does ‘Creatrix’ mean as it’s not a term that is in wide circulation? I know when I use it, it raises questions in others. Some are brave enough to ask what does mean, while others are happy the remain in ignorance and apply whatever labels to me they wish.
Creatrix: she who makes is what I call myself because the labels that others have put on me, or even as I’ve tried to define myself in the past, are just not good enough, or expansive enough. I’m more than just a writer, or artist, facilitator or teacher. I’m so much more than what I do in the world or produce. I’m more so interested in the person I am, who I be.
Creatrix originally is defined as a writer, an authoress. Therefore female. But now, the term Creatrix has come to mean, for me, anything that and anyone who is creative. My whole life is a creation, and so is yours. How I express my creativity is multifaceted and diverse. Yes I show up at the page to visual journal every day, but I’m also creative when I decide how I’m going to spend my time each day, what I wear, what I eat, and how I show up in the world.
Creativity is not the exclusive realm of writers, artists or musicians or dancers. I believe that everyone is creative but due to the society and culture we live in we are socialised into repressing it, conditioned into devaluing our natural, innate creativity and in the process move further away from our true selves. Being creative, consciously creative is being in communion with the Self, again another practice which is not really valued or taught within this culture ( white supremacy culture, I’ll add).
Me using and adopting Creatrix to describe myself to others is me reclaiming agency, it’s taking back control and power over how I’m defined, labeled or seen by others. I’m a person made up of many parts, personalities and responsibilities, skills and capabilities. And I bring them all to every situation/experiences/ activity I partake in. I attempt to be whole. I’m becoming whole.
Showing up more and more whole, more and more in my own power and authenticity is a practice. Being creative is a practice. It’s my constant reminder of who I be, not what I do, but who I be.
“A Creatrix is not simply a performer or entertainer – though these are the elements of what she does – she is a dedicated shaper of consciousness and energy, a culture weaver, a dreamer and midwife of new worlds. She is an asker of uncomfortable questions and a liver of taboos.” Creatrix: she who makes by Lucy H Pearce
I’ve mentioned before how I’ve been granted a scholarship to participate in Susannah Conway’s Journal Love Club for a whole year.
It’s a gift that just keeps on giving. I get a prompt everyday, a growing community on Mighty Networks, people sharing practice and a live zoom call once a month.
Usually, I start my day with my visual journal practice as above and then by the time I’ve done that the prompt from Journal Love Club has come through so I can continue and respond to that.
In the past, I’d be on my case for using so many different journals. I would also get confused by what went where and then lose stuff, not knowing where to find the gems. Now, I’m much more of a mind that if I’m showing up to the page, at all or once or twice or more, it’s all a win.
The common denominator between all these different journals is me. And this practice helps me along on this journey of getting back to me. The core me. The authentic me.
After today’s prompt which asked me to look over my recent journal entries to pull out themes; what’s been grabbing my attention, this entry came out:
“Nothing is a surprise when I look back and see what issues and ideas keep circulating the journal pages.
Identity, fear, never being good enough.
But then I started to switch things up in response to this prompt.
I’ll never to good enough in a system which is stacked against me.
In a system wired for us to aim for perfection even when we know it doesn’t exist.
But more so, if it did exist it wouldn’t be available to me anyway.
So knowing this I surrender. I let go. Not give up, but surrender means not allowing time and energy to strive for this, to even fight it.
But to use this energy and channel it into the things that are important to me. Not even taking into account the system, the white gaze but making my audience that little Black girl inside and the one in my house now.
And maybe through this I can heal as well as be a better mother to myself and my daughter.
That feels good, that feels better.”
This past week has been way too busy for my liking. But it was to my liking in a way as I found it stimulating and so much food for thought.
What I need now is rest though in order to process it all and at some point it did get to stimulation overload.
My creative pot over flows and I need to channel this into something. Something I produce in order to process this last week somehow. as well as how it sits with my overall practice and how I show up in the world.
Showing up at the page each day has helped; mining my thoughts and feeling and reactions onto these pages has been a support.
I just need some more space and rest now to integrate it all. Yes that’s what I’m seeking integration.
And again this is where my visual journal steps up/ in/ through me to support this journey of becoming.
To you it might look a mess.
To you it might look like someone’s puked on the page.
To you it might feel out of whack.
To you it might make no sense.
To me it feels like progress.
Sometimes I use my journal space for a rant. For a deep and meaning conversation with myself. It’s the space I can go to and be totally me and know I won’t be judged.
My visual journaling space is a time and place I can come to make sense of things that are bothering me. Which have me thinking and sometimes hurting. But it means getting it out on the page, gets it out of circulating around my body, mind and soul and pulling me down and holding me back.
Within these pages which are a mix of paints and images and words, I make sense of the world on my own terms. There might be other people’s voices that invade this space, but for the majority of time my voice reigns supreme. There is no where else in this world where my voice holds such sway as it does within this visual journal practice.
I get to try out different voices, registers, ideas and know it’s safe to show up here in all my fucked up glory.
This has been so appreciated and welcomed in these last few weeks when I’ve been stepping out more into the physical world as well as into new, expansive virtual adventures.
Knowing that I can come home to the page, after each encounter, good and bad, gives me permission and confidence to show up out there more and more as my whole self.
Sometimes I can’t find the words. Sometimes a smear of paint might be enough or an image to spark the imagination or to stand in for that void.
Other times a good quote is enough.
“Don’t let what they want eclipse what you need. They are very dreamy. But they’re not the sun. You are. You are the sun.” Christina Yang
Quality reminders through tough times, quotes can be just that.
I come to the page bubbling with excitement. For what, I do not know.
I feel a change in my energy. It might be the light coming through my window. It might be the prospect of the day ahead. Or if might simply be the fact that I’m turning up for me daily when I come to the page and braindump, dream and talk to self.
Good Morning Sheree.
I sometimes write this at the top of my page on a morning in my Good Morning Vietnam voice. And then proceed to have a conversation with myself. Checking in with myself to see how I’m feeling this morning.
It’s almost like a letter to self. My voice strong and loud in my head coaxing out the different thoughts and feelings and cheering myself on.
Almost like a long prep talk, I prime myself for the day ahead at the same time savouring then moment I’m in while completing my morning pages. The softness of my bed. The sound of the tumbling washing machine. The birds singing and the silence, when it’s there, humming.
I love this time of the day, just woken up and coffee brewed. Eyes and thoughts still hazy but an excitement rumbling on my belly. I get to do this each morning. This sacred ritual which I don’t take for granted but accept as a privilege.
I do share this practice, here, in workshops, in my writings and interactions with other people because it is a powerful source for mental health, dream making and becoming a better version of self.
I’d be crazy, selfish and inhumane if I kept this tool, this practice to myself.
We could all tap into this power and it starts with saying Good Morning to yourself. Your true self and continuing to turn up for the self who you see starting to appear.
Living Wild Studios 