Challenge completion, continue

A couple of days ago, I completed the 30 day sketchbook challenge, successfully. Not a day missed.

I’m really proud of this achievement as it proves to myself that I can turn up for my art-making consistently. That I can use my sketchbook as a place of play and wonder. A place to take risks, safely.

The importance I place on the creative sketchbook practice is immense but not to the point of paralysing myself and then not creating out of fear of failure.

The plan is to continue the practice. And I have been turning up each day since. I’ve been using my own prompts, following my curiosity, leaning into my own style. Listening to my voice.

The original course came with an additional 30 prompts. So I’ll start them when I run out of my own ideas. Then I can also restart the original course again and then explore a comparison between the creations and reflections of the first round with the second.

This is definitely, at the point, turning into an 100 days project, an just saying that as another milestone to meet and to keep myself accountable.

And again, I’ll keep the pages for my eyes only, not ready or even wanting/needing to share the pages I create or to move onto larger, external canvas or panels.

I do not feel the need or the call to create any formal work as yet or share. I’m happy exploring within my sketchbook and following where that takes me within the pages.

I realise that has been where I’ve gone wrong in the past. Skipping the sketchbook phase which I’m thinking is simply like the drafting stage of writing. The loose, trial and error phase, where we’re just playing. I’ve been missing out this phase and going straight to the big stuff, the art put into the world. The exhibitions, the judgments and appreciations.

And what I’ve produced mainly carried little meaning for me or messages for the viewer. I feel that it’s fallen flat and felt like a void. And I think this is because I wasn’t sure of my voice, my style, my meanings and messages.

This is what I’m taking away from this sketchbook practice now. And I’m so enjoying the process and I’m open to what surfaces. But I’m also patient and loyal in terms of showing up and doing the work. I trust all will become clear and strong and full in the process.

A freezing dip followed by a hot sip

Yesterday after the school drop off, I braved the icy pavements ( you remember my fall last year right? year ago this weekend in fact!). Anyway walking like a duck with piles, I got down to my favourite beach and braved the icy metallic waves.

They say you never regret a sea swim. Well not so much swim, as the tide might have been going out but those waves were getting bigger coming in.

But it was worth it. This cold, freezing, numbing refreshing sea dip, skip, swear swim. Then it was back onto the icy pavement to the local coffee shop to warm up.

Got myself a seat by the radiator and enjoyed completing my visual journal spread for the day with an extra hot oat vanilla latte.

And this coffee comes courtesy of gift. I give thanks for the coffee to two people who kindly gifted me with ‘ buy me a coffee’ monthly subscriptions this week, responding to the post I put out this week asking for support, no doubt.

You know who you are and I’d like to thank you again for your generosity.

As you can see I’m putting your support to good use. I’d been sluggish all week as I get back into the school routine after the break. The sea woke me up. Fired me up and the coffee just kept the fires burning.

Thank you kindly ❤️

An Archives of Memories, Feelings and Skyr

This is one of my favourite images from my extensive collection.

I know exactly when and where it was taken. Westfjords Residency, Iceland, Feb/March 2017.

This was my go to breakfast. Coffee, cornflakes and Skyr, Icelandic protein enriched yogurt. I love the colours, the composition. The items included. But most of all, I love the memories and feelings just looking at this image evokes.

It takes me back to that time of wonder and discovery during my second time to Iceland. A residency I gifted to myself, writing the application while teaching temporally; frustrated, longing to get out and create.

I stayed for two weeks in the shadows of the mountains, knee deep in snow most days until the thaw came with some greening of the landscape.

I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing there back then. I just knew in my body that I needed to get away, gain inspiration from the landscape and {BE}.

I might not have completed much when I was out there, but I know when I returned the experience shifted my creativity and how I saw myself as a creative.

I saw glimmers of the Northern Lights during this retreat. Pale creamy wisps and trails in a dark navy sky. It was magical and a mystery.

This makes me think about my art-making practice and how most of the time I’m working in the dark, moving out of my comfort zone into the unknown, looking and listening hoping to catch a glimpses of magic and mystery in the process.

What’s created on the page, like this photography, is an archive, a record which when looked upon brings to the surface all the memories and feelings of the process, the experience once again experienced to the full with wonder and a smile.

A Black WOmen’s Creative Retreat

I’m remembering the summer as well as archiving the events that went down @Earth Sea Love.

In August we managed to pull off a black women’s creative retreat. A weekend of creative camping in the middle of a forest. We cooked, and created, shared stories and slept under the stars. It was a magical time as we stepped out of time, to steal our lives back on our own terms. We laughed and cried and sang and walked and reconnected with ourselves, each other and nature.

I’ve just spent some time, updating the Earth Sea Love website with some events that took place over the summer, this retreat included because it’s important to have a record, an archives of these happenings. My heart and body remembers these days, these events because they have a profound effect on my {BEING}. Events like these reinforces everything that I {BE} and do for myself and others. And it is finding those ways of getting free, more often and for longer stretches of time.

This image above is of Pauline Mayers, one of the women to come on the retreat. And as you can see from her facial expression, and the sheer glow coming off her being, we had fun out there in nature together.

I’m now fixing to create more opportunities like this one. It was a dream come true, a dream started in a visual journal spread one day a few years ago. And who says dreams don’t come true. All you have to do is believe. Believe in yourself and the community around you and all will come to fruition.

A Creative Sketchbook, Dec 2025

My creative sketchbook
My creative sketchbook rules

I’m not sure how my creative sketchbook differs from my visual journal. Intention maybe.

Perhaps, I think , I’m attempting to develop my art practice within a designated space. A study maybe.

I haven’t really been in the thick of my art making practice since the preparation for my Baltic exhibition back in 2022-3.

This was quickly followed with the writings and (re)drafts of Darkling, my poetry/hybrid collection published in October 2024.

After this 2025 has been a period of extended rest and refusal.

But something has been niggling me. The desire to create with paint again. the desire to play without expectations and outcomes/ products.

I’ve just scratched the itch through scrolling through Pinterest. Adding another abstract or landscape painting to a board that I’ll probably not look at again.

But it satisfied this niggling feeling. Until it didn’t.

It was going back into the classroom. Completing a few days of supply that pushed me over the edge.

The time I gave away for money. The time I’d lost pursuing my own pursuits. And realising that I wasn’t pursuing all the pursuits I wanted to pursue in the time I had/have.

So out came a creative sketchbook, inspired by the 30 days sketchbook challenge created by Cheryl Taves over at Insight Creative.

This is as much as I’m willing to share for now about the challenge, my creative sketchbook, processes and insights.

One of my rules is that it’s just for my eyes only. I want to see how this rule changes my practice. I want to create without fear but with curiosity. I want to give myself all the freedom without worrying about what others will think or say or comment on.

It’s not like I’m hanging on other people’s responses and reactions but I have gotten into a habit of just sharing anything and everything on my blog and I’m curious to see what happens when I keep things to myself.

Just for my eyes, heart, and soul only.

So far I’m enjoying the process of the challenge and I’m reflecting and paying attention to what makes my heart sing, what’s my creative vocabulary, what pushes my energies.

Do doubt whatever I explore within my creative sketchbook will be showing up in everything that I create. In everything who I {BE}. For sure.

Making myself comfy

After a busy week, where it felt as if I didn’t get a weekend, because I didn’t as I was permaculturing and fugitivity spreading, I’m making myself comfy and cosy.

I’m all wrapped up in bed, catching up with my creativity. Catching up with myself.

And I feel so grateful for this cosy fort, for the week I’ve enjoyed, mostly on my own terms, and for the weekend to come. Rest and creative fugitivity.

I’ve still got mothering and taxiing duties this evening but I feel, in my cosy fortress, I’m on my own time/space.

I get to play and be curious and satisfy my desires. And right now all I want to do is be here. Right. Now.

I’m safe. I’m warm. I’m stealing my life back. Each cosy, comfy fort at a time.

Well it happened …

Jug, Simeon Leigh, Loophole of Retreat Exhibition

I come here with a heart filled with joy, love and gratitude.

I put my heart, soul, care and dreams into the WOC Azadi Collective fugitivity visual journaling retreat today.

The time/space we created together was magical. We’re becoming a fugitive collective, creating mischief as we steal ourselves away. Steal our lives back from systems of oppression, systems we never consented to but find ourselves subjected it.

We refuse.

I have so much love and gratitude for Dal Kular who got me back to work with the collective. Dal sees my practices and processes around my visual journaling and fugitivity and constantly cheers me on, holds space and supports me to explore these further in collective/ collaboration with beautiful people.

What we created was powerful and ripe with possibilities. What we can do together is empowering and criminal. Disorderly and messy and so much needed.

There are other ways to {BE} and I’m all for exploring these further, deeper, together.

MORE.

Satda Planning and Dreaming

Strategy for Fugitivity Retreat

After a busy week of being here there bad everywhere, I come to the page after my Satda Permaculture Gathering.

I’m planning out my workshop for my fugitivity visual journaling retreat with WOC Azadi Collective tomorrow. And I’m excited but also apprehensive. I had so much I want to share but I don’t want to spend all our time together talking. I don’t want to lecture to the participants but I get so excited when I’m sharing anything visual journaling and fugitivity. For me they go hand in hand.

I’m also worried that the participants might not get what I’m on about. I’m not sure sometimes. What I’m doing? What I mean when I practice fugitivity?

I suppose I won’t know until I put words to the air and attempt to communicate these liberatory practices.

these are a few of my favourite things …

I’ve missed a few days here.

I don’t know if I expressed it openly but I’ve been trying to post every day here in honour of a practice from years ago of being creative every day.

This last week, home alone and probably depressed, I’ve been beating myself up for not doing more. More out in society as well as within my own practice. I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotions and I’ve not been kind towards myself.

Coming out the other end though I can see that I’ve been doing what I’ve needed. Rest yes but also quiet, small magic.

I’ve been collecting brown paper from packages. I thought I’d use them within the creative retreats I facilitated this year but it didn’t happen. So I have a very large pile and what I love about the brown paper apart from the sound and texture is the un/uniformativity of it.

These papers are teared to fuck. Fragile and worn and rough. And I love feeling them. So this week, I might not have been posting here but my sitting room became a factory conveyer belt as brown paper got the credit card treatment of smeared paints. Acrylic paints that I’m using up that I love the mixtures of, that gets under my nails and onto the carpet. And I love it. One side wait to dry and then the next and then let’s fold and put these single sheets together to make a whole

This practice has made me whole again this week. I’ve been writing within this new journal this past couple of days and I feel so good to be doing so. Better.

I’m grateful to wake up each morning and {BE}. I’m grateful that I’m no longer chasing recognition and the big bucks. I’m grateful that I don’t give a fuck about being perfect and always having to smile.

I’m grateful for the community I have around me. Cultivated over years. They care for me and I care for them.

I’m grateful to myself for never giving up on me and for always having my back even when it feels I’m falling apart. Falling apart but big hands to put me back together again, but better.