Even though the last few days have been full on with the house move ( and we haven’t finished yet), I am pleased to say that I have managed to find the time and space within each day to stop and admire my surroundings. I can recall moments of stillness when I have been present; catching myself smiling into the season, noticing the changing light, sensing the coming chill. Relishing the ruby richness of the berries.
It really has been a gift to experience these moments of clarity, these moments of bliss in the sheer speed of passing time, and the sheer frenzy of activities.
Time is running out in terms of getting the house cleared as well as for my favourite season being here in all her golden edges.
Tonight while driving back from the council dump, high up in the sky in front of me is a sliver of the moon. She moves out from the dark, slowly revealing a pale silver cheek. I feel blessed in so many ways, to be living this life now. Thank you.
[[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. ]]
the snow is pristine
the water is cold
the silence is rippling
she does not come here to talk. she does not come here to appease. she is here to connect. to the Earth. to the Sea. to Herself. so she does not take kindly to the wide vacant stares that question her presence. she uses the solid rock of the mountains and the copper grasses peaking through the cracks as a special welcome just for her.
I’ve been on a journey. Some days it feels like to hell and back. Other days, it seems like I went dark. I ventured into the underworld to the Dark Goddess. I’m not sure what or who the Dark Goddess is but I do know she is within me. She has always been within me, but I have failed to acknowledge her, or feared to spend time with her.
Over the past year or so, I haven’t had a choice but spend time with the dark Goddess. Associated with death and avoided, She also holds the power for life, and transformation. Before this can occur there has to be death. The natural cycle of every thing is life, death, life cycle.
Anyway, I’m working through things at the moment, working to become more empowered from within and part of this journey does include embrace the Dark Goddess, my Dark Goddess. I chose to document this process and share my practices through poetry. The Dark Goddess is the focus of my next full collection of poetry. What shape this will take is left up in the air. I jut know in my core that this is the path I must take.
Here’s a poem that I think will fit well within this collection.
Forecast
I had a friend once, Fresh, who could talk to the weather.
She tuned into their energies or something.
She could persuade a seafret to stray away from the Scottish coast,
turn back a storm before its even thought about which Caribbean isle to hit next.
She had a certain way when she looked at you,
numbed you to the core,
yet when she smiled it was like the sun glistened
through her pores.
When it rained, she’d be out there for hours arguing
about which was the best colour of the rainbow.
And when a wind blew she came into her element.
She grew in size, raised her arms in welcome
blustered through the cracks of light and disappeared.
“People who know me would say I am a positive person. Usually a positive person. Lately, my moods have been dark. In the past few months, disastrous things have happened which have left me feeling worthless, victimised and suicidal. I will start to document the experience here over time. But I understand why people haven’t wanted to be with me. Hell, I haven’t wanted to be with me either
I’ve been walking the line around the edge of depression. My husband suffers from depression and low self-esteem. Has done so for years. So there’s no room in our household for me to be sick also. I cannot go down there as it is I who holds our family together. I’m not trying to big myself up. It has been the truth, until now.
Now, I’m just falling apart, been doing so gradually over the last few months. At the same time, I’ve been attempting to build my life, myself back up. I see now my mistake has been to hold on too tight to how things were in the past, how I was in the past, resisting change at the same time as wanting these difficult times to pass.
Robert Frost wrote:
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
I first came across this poem in the film, The Outsiders. Ponyboy recited it to his friend Johnny. Then on his death bed, Johnny told Ponyboy to ‘stay gold.’ I loved that film. I think Johnny was trying to tell Ponyboy to stay good, stay innocent and pure, to not let the harshness of this world change him. That’s a difficult request to fulfill. There is more ugliness in this world than ever I feel, but I have to acknowledge that there is also beauty.
I have to remember that how I behave, act or speak originates from me. No one else can or should control how I act and behave. I do want to be a positive person but I know that person has gone. Changes occurred. They had to. I want to be whole. So more changes will have to come. I’ll be a positive and good person but a wholly different positive person than before.
Why the image of the sea to accompany this post? Because I got back into the sea today after weeks of avoiding it. The sea is my medicine. I’ve been refusing to take my medicine. Maybe because I didn’t have the energy, or maybe because I didn’t want to heal. Today, I dived into the cold sea releasing a little of my pain. I smiled while I luxuriated in her cold watery embrace reminded why I love being in the water, that feeling of freedom and what I’ve been been missing. The sea saved me.”
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
At the end of July, I was honoured to be featured in an episode of Straight Talk For The Curvy World hosted by the lovely and perceptive Ann Peck. A podcast covering the challenges women over the age of 40 face each day, has been a life -line for me since I found this gem in November 2015. So it was such a dream come true when Ann approached me asking if I would complete an interview with her about my up and coming book, rubedo.
I jumped at the opportunity and I am so glad that I didn’t allow my fears to stand in the way. This would be the first time I’d spoken at length about the ordeal I went through starting in May 2015 leading up to now. An ordeal that played out in a very public way on social media. Detailed within my creative non-fiction book, Ann has a way of questioning that gets to the heart of the issues, and I honestly came away from this experience closer to my authentic self. And I thank Ann and this podcast for their continuing insight and support.
Check out the episode in question. Episode 46: Raw Feelings Put On The Page Can Heal You.
Living Wild Studios 