Starting Over Studio

This page is entitled, “On Top of the World,” and features a portion of one of the images from Journal Starters Sampler Volume I.

I like Ferris wheels–but as an individual suffering from a fierce fear of heights, I far prefer the way they look from the ground! Even so, when I spotted the top section of a Ferris wheel in one of the pictures in the book, I knew I’d use it as the focal image on my page, which celebrates the joyful, life-affirming feelings that art has given me the last six years.

In my written journaling on this page, I talk about what a truly awesome experience it is to be “the zone” while creating in my studio. For me, “the zone” is a state of mind in which I’m so completely absorbed in what I’m making that I lose track of time and have no awareness whatsoever of what’s going on around me; in this state, 110% of my brain is focused on the task at hand, whether it be laying down layers of collage, moving paint around on a substrate, playing around with ink, or doodling. When I’m in “the zone,” someone could ask me a question, and I won’t even hear them. The TV could be on, but the noise coming from it fades away. I could be stressed and worried about a hundred different things, but for that magical stretch of time, all of those concerns are pushed out of my consciousness.

Although I’ve only been creating mixed-media art for six years, I am no stranger to “the zone.” For almost 20 years, I played competitive tennis and was as serious about it as one could be. Between the ages of 12 and 30, tennis was everything to me. I ate, slept, and breathed tennis, and in between the hundreds of matches I played, trained hard on the track and in the gym. I hoped that by working every spare moment on my game, I could enter “the zone” during my next match–that place of total ecstasy in your mind where the tennis ball coming over the net looks like it’s the size of a beach ball, where your racquet strikes it just perfectly, where all of your shots land exactly where you want them to, and where every distraction outside the court disappears. Unfortunately, after I turned 30, it became harder and harder for me to get in “the zone” on a tennis court. A myriad of physical injuries and other medical issues got in the way, and I had to step back from the sport I loved so much. I never believed I’d ever find something else I loved nearly as much as tennis–but when I began exploring mixed-media, it hit me in exactly the same way. The part of my brain that dialed into the swinging and striking of a tennis ball was now also hooked up to the acts of cutting, pasting, collaging, and painting–and it was a perfect fit. And each time I step through the door of my studio and sit down to work, it doesn’t take long before I’m in “the zone” again–and I feel as though I’m on top of the world! It’s truly a gift, and one for which I’m endlessly thankful.

This page was created with acrylic paint, gesso, spray inks, vintage book pages, a paint texture sample from the decorating store, Washi tape, stencils, stamped bubble wrap, rub-ons, stickers, pens, and the image from the book.

This week, let’s do whatever it is that puts us in “the zone.” Let’s allow ourselves a moment to be on top of our world. We deserve to receive this precious gift!

Today’s page is another I completed a short time ago, using an image from Kim Rae Nugent’s new book, Journal Starters Sampler Volume I. This fabulous resource for mixed-media art journalists is available for purchase right now on Amazon.com.

“Please Don’t Burst My Bubbles” was inspired by a photograph of the ubiquitous carnival game in which contestants throw darts at balloons in order to win prizes. I was reminded of how life, other people, and even the darker aspects of our own personalities can serve as darts and arrows to the values we hold dear–our sacred balloons, or “bubbles.” If we fail to build and maintain a strong outer shell of armor to ward them off, they may puncture and deflate our dreams.

In each of the “bubbles” on the page I recorded a value that is important to me in my life, and for each of the “arrows,” I wrote down an antagonist to those values; both were great exercises in honest self-reflection.

For me, self-doubt is certainly an arrow that I’m guilty of throwing at myself. It’s the ever-present voice in my head that tells me lies, trying to convince me that I’m not capable of doing what I want to do and that I’m just not good enough. I know I need to do a better job of ignoring and silencing that voice.

Rigidity is another of my pitfalls. I resist and run away from change, even when I know it is what’s best for me. I’m not always willing to look outside the box, although I must say that my art practice has forced me to get better at recognizing and exploring alternatives, instead of merely giving up when the going gets tough or something isn’t working out as planned.

This page was created with spray inks, stencils, watercolor crayons, vintage book pages, Washi tape, a bottle cap stamped with India ink, stamps, pigment ink, rub-ons, stickers, a pen, and a date stamp.

Here’s to suits of armor, and to the good sense to drop any of those sharp “arrows” that we may be clutching in our own hands. They only serve as hazards to ourselves and the brave, strong lives we’re trying to build.

Have a wonderful weekend!

“Solitude” is one of my journal pages that appears in Kim Rae Nugent’s new book, Journal Starters Sampler Volume I.

One of the inspiring photographs in Kim’s book depicts a lone gull standing on a beach, and the word “solitude” instantly jumped out at me when I saw it.

I definitely enjoy being around other people. I eagerly seek out opportunities to visit and hang out with my family and friends. As a lifelong athlete I’ve competed as part of many teams, and I highly value the friendship and camaraderie that I’ve found among my teammates. I belong to a profession where I serve the public, and I come into contact with over a hundred people on a daily basis. I absolutely love creating and connecting with other artists at workshops and retreats, here in the blogosphere, and on social media.

While all of this is most certainly true, there are also times in my life when I feel a deep desire to be alone. There are moments when the busy chaos of life and the cacophonous chorus of voices that fills my ears each day make it hard for me to hear myself think, and I desperately need a refuge. My art studio often serves as this refuge. A quiet country road where I ride my bicycle in the warm-weather months also serves as such a place. A deserted stretch of beach (like that of the gull in the photo!) is another haven. I’ve made a lot of important decisions about my life in these solitary settings, because they seem to be the only places where I can turn off the background noise, listen to my heart, and find the truth.

It isn’t always possible to set aside time in my schedule for solitude, but I try to do it as often as I can because I know it’s essential in order for me to function at my best, as a human being and as an artist. In the past, taking time out for myself made me feel guilty, but I think as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that it’s just another part of me that I need to accommodate and embrace.

This page was made with vintage book pages and papers, gesso, spray inks, stencils, rub-ons, pens, a painted and stamped chipboard letter stencil, text typed on a vintage typewriter, photo corners, a sticker label, and the image from the book.

Journal Starters Sampler Volume I can be purchased at Amazon.com.

Have a wonderful week–and do your best to take time out for you!

This is another journal page I completed recently, using one of the photographs from Kim Rae Nugent’s book, Journal Starters Sampler Volume I. It’s called, “Tear Down This Wall!”

When I spotted the photo of the cement-and-stone wall in the book, I instantly recalled former president Ronald Reagan’s iconic speech at the Berlin Wall in 1987, when he implored Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev to “tear down this wall!” I also thought about the walls that we put up around ourselves, and walls we encounter that block the way to our goals and dreams.

Lately I’ve been feeling as though there is a wall in my path, but it’s not one that just appeared there by itself. I know it’s one of my own creation.

There are some changes I know I need to make in my life, but fear is the wall that stands in my way. My fear of change and my fear of failure have been fused together like the cement and the rocks, and have become hard and impenetrable. In the past few years I’ve pounded on the wall, and even scratched and chiseled away at it. But I haven’t yet found the courage to pick up a sledgehammer and destroy it.

I pray that someday I will have that courage–and that sledgehammer! In the meantime, this page has played an important role in getting me to acknowledge the origins of my wall, and accept the fact that I am the only one who can tear it down.

This page was created with acrylic paints, gesso, spray ink, pigment ink, stamps, Washi tape, rub-ons, pens, part of the photograph from the book, and a variety of different letter stickers I had in my stash, including a few from a pack of very large white stickers that had been used to create a yard sign a few years ago.

Journal Starters Sampler Volume I can be ordered at Amazon.com.

Have a wonderful weekend!