Yes Virginia, this sketchbook was chewed by a wolf.
It’s funny how we can be about our journals. At times, happy to scribble on a scrap of paper – others filled with the necessity of a certain book with that certain paper, the tooth and texture just right for accepting every medium on the planet you can get your hands on… Whatever it may be it is here to contain little moments.
I remember watching Katherine smear sugar and paint across the pages of her ragged book. I sat there, transfixed – amazed at her boldness. The idea of the sacred changed right then and there for me. For years, during school I, along with many many many fellow aspiring artists, felt like we had to do our absolute best and perfect work in that beautiful sketchbook, perfect images executed in just the right linework, exceptional, realistic shading and idea. The edge of the pages golden, the spines not cracked, the covers never soiled… EMPTY they sat on our shelves for YeArs.
And then…
Katherine is as Katherine does.
SHE came into my circle.
She, with her wild hair and dirty fingers, stained with charcoal and courage.
She drew, rubbed, tore, spit and CreAteD in her journal.
She purged, explored, reveled with whatever was on the table right there on those pages. Suddenly I could see passed the lie of “all that glaring whiteness- that blank page: Daunting!” What bullshite. The paper is hungry for the chance to be the container, the witness for our souls! “pour it onto me, into me, through me!” So. Here goes the tea, poured over the page.
Break out the charcoal – make a line.
Another.
Oh, the velvety smoothness makes it easy.
D wearing charcoal and pastel with Earl Grey tea.
And that was it.
No more holding back.
Ever.
never limit yourself in your fun places!
From the Everywhere 