Tag Archives: Art Journal Page

Less Shadow, More Shade

This week found me wrestling my light and shadow sides. As a girl, it was ok to have a light side. That was the good, acceptable, pleasing part of me. But woah be it when the shadow emerged. That part was dark and dangerous and unacceptable.

I learned early to shove the shadow parts of me down, careful not to let them escape. I learned to bear up and suffer the consequences when the real me was seen. Then I could reset and be bright and acceptable, again . . . until . . .

Wave after wave crested and crashed. Not able to hold both . . . and . . . , not understanding that this is why Jesus came, I felt shame around my feelings and their inappropriate expression. There was not language for all I held inside, nor was there safety to look at any of it.

Texting with a heart friend this week affirmed the confusion over parts of my story, as a realization dawned in me surrounding my relationship to the shadow. While the shadow side was unacceptable, it is also what saved me, hence the bind. In some ways it protected me. How do I bless that?

My friend spoke of a redeemed version of the shadow. Shadows offer shade and reprieve. Maybe redemption brings with it less shadow, more shade, she offered. It felt true and an image began to form in my mind.

First a sketch, then a rummage through the art supplies, and finally some paint in the art journal led to this week’s creation. While I didn’t plan for it to have a death, burial, and resurrection theme, one is undeniably present.

The image on the left is how it feels when the shadow is released. I am turned from the light towards the darkness and feel ungrounded. There is no containment. On the right I am settled in the shade of a tree. Though there is still darkness, light is breaking through and rest is found. I am grounded and contained, and there is beauty in the shadows. I am surrounded by growth.

As I sat with the image more, I felt the self on the left calling out in the darkness. That is the yellow line cutting through the shadow. She does not know that new life and resurrection is coming, but the one on the right remembers and is there. She holds both the beauty and broken. The light and dark. She holds hope.

The day I created this, I received a package in the mail. Opening it revealed an unconventional resurrection story, which I will hold until Sunday, the day we celebrate that He is risen, indeed and came to make all things new, including our shadow stories.

To be continued . . .

Step by Step

March ends with a view from my art journal. It has helped me move through the month with kindness while taking steps towards a new thing coming in April.

These pages were created the Sunday before I took a big step that I will share about soon. They helped me remember to just do what is next.

A calm sea and sky in the background, steps leading up to a chair made from a birdcage, a door to go through, shadow and light, rolls of film, these images evoke a feeling of calm confidence.
Birdcages are the theme of this page. Some are open, repurposed, some have a bird in them still. Rolls of film line the top of the page and light shines down over all.

Here are the facing pages. I love how the door leads to what is on the other side.

Detailed post here.
Detailed post here.

Doing What’s Next

What’s next?

I have sat with this question for awhile now. Endings have left me wondering. People ask.

What’s next for you?

Next is tricky. Doing what’s next means different things in different seasons. I have been in a season where next has meant doing the next load of laundry, driving the next car pickup, having the next conversation.

I am still there in many ways.

Next has been nudging me. Speaking up. My mind was swirling with this when I opened my art journal recently and began arranging images to process my feelings about next.

These pages helped me to sort out and ground.

Next is unknown, symbolized by stairs moving up into the shadows. What is up there? A rock at the bottom offers grounding while the stained glass effect is made by light shining through darker colors, like the dark purples and blues surrounding the stairs. A bouquet of flowers holds hope for the promise of growth.
The stained glass border continues on this page but stops as rising natural sunlight takes over. Now there is no filter. Inspired by the return of spring and “spring forward” bringing longer days, this page shows color and movement while still holding the tension of bare-limbed trees waiting to bud. A path is next to them. Where does it lead? While still early in the growing season, something is preparing to burst into bloom, symbolized by a giant tulip.
These facing pages hold the story of stepping out and up by faith. It is courageous to keep doing what is next. I love the flowing movement of the flowers, the bright sunshine, and the hope of a new thing coming.

There is something coming. Next is on the horizon. I am eager to share what it is in the near future. Stay tuned!

Clarity

This year I planned to art journal something weekly and write on the blog three times weekly. When I looked back over my goals and saw that intention, I realized that, unlike art journaling, the writing part was not happening.

I find that creating pages in my art journal helps to clarify what is going on inside, sometimes more than written words. These pages from the first week in March are no exception. I realized I was carrying a lot of fear over the next steps to take, which, in turn, was holding me back and keeping me bound.

These images spoke to me. The flowers, sunset, trees, city, words, all of them. The process of trusting my eye and gut brought focus to my mind and joy in the finished product.
Remembering that I wanted to write on the blog three times weekly this year led me to the reality that the only way it will happen is if I just do it. The typewriter, flowers, and words all joined together on this page to gently remind me of that.

These pages brought clarity. I love the way they came together and how they remind me to just keep writing and moving forward.

And also love.

February Art Journal Pages

One of my goals this year is to art journal something weekly. I did not think I was doing well with this until I looked back over these pages. I discovered that I created something each week this month.

I share them here to encourage you to do something, even if it does not seem like much. I feel at a standstill these days (maybe you will notice that in some of my work), but looking back I see movement that pushes me forward.

I wrote about this page here.
This was created after a strategic planning meeting day at Cross Keys Equine Therapy.
This is a Valentine’s themed page created with the gold heart from my box of candy and the card from my love.
This latest page gives me much to ponder, as I created it with images that spoke to me and am curious about how they all came together.

As February comes to a close and March steps up, I look forward to what is coming my way. I am not sure that that is, exactly, but that is part of the fun! What are you looking forward to, Dear Reader? Do share!

Flourish

It came to me while unpacking my Christmas ornaments this year. I pulled a mini Starbucks mug ornament with the word Flourish from the box. It was still in its packaging. I remembered buying it on sale after Christmas last year and saving it for this year.

The ornament never made it out of its cardboard casing or onto the tree. Instead it stood on a shelf in my room inviting me to ponder the word Flourish and what it might mean for me in the new year.

Looking it up, the next step in the process, began to solidify my choice.

to grow luxuriantly, to achieve success, to be in a state of activity or production, to reach a height of development or influence, to make bold and sweeping gestures, an ornamental stroke in writing or printing, a decorative or finishing detail

All of these meanings, and more that were listed, felt true about what I long for in the new year.

Still pondering, I came across an online quiz related to figuring out your word of the year and decided to take it. The result was courage.

I always need that, and in this case, I think finding the courage to flourish is where I landed.

Here is my process in making this year’s art journal page along with the final result. I will keep it displayed to remind me of this year’s intentions.

Stickerless Smile

All day I watched as I Voted posts filled my social media feeds. Friends shared selfies with circle or oval stickers pressed to their clothing. One picture showed Mom, Dad, Son, Daughter with stickers on their noses.

I planned to walk to my polling place and vote, but that did not happen. Morning rain cleared as I headed to the grocery store for much-needed provisions. Returning home I had less than an hour before another commitment that would continue past 7pm when the polls closed.

My daughter graciously unloaded and put away groceries as I drove to vote solo, a change from this year. I did not need any literature and quickly checked in, removing my ID from my wallet. Yearly pleasantries were exchanged with my favorite poll worker, as the man checking me in waited patiently then asked me to state my address.

I took the paper ballot and sat at a table behind a cardboard privacy shield. Looking over the ballot, I took deep breaths. Voting always reminds me of how not right everything is. I colored the ovals of my choices and walked to the scanner, which was sporadically spitting ballots back for retrys.

It’s been doing that all day.

Waiting for my ballot to scan I noticed that the exit poll worker’s hands were conspicuously empty, and that no one was getting a sticker.

Wait! Are there no stickers?

We’re all out. Someone left to go get more.

Inside my head I heard, Noooo! I really want a sticker! Tears stung my eyes, cluing me to the fact that I was experiencing feelings that were probably not about the sticker. I refrained from repeating the other words springing to mind.

I feel disenfranchised!

That would have been making light of a serious scenario, comparing myself to someone who was actually deprived of the right to vote. Though, in hindsight it feels a completely appropriate initial response, because these days if you vote and don’t get a sticker or post a selfie on social media, did you really vote?

Outside the polling place, I told one of the workers who held an armload of sample ballots, They were out of stickers! How can I prove that I actually voted?

She felt my pain and mentioned that people had been taking selfies in front of the signs.

Which I did.

Returning home, I expressed disappointment to my daughter who offered comfort in the form of suggesting I create an I Voted sign out of M&Ms. Which I did.

I left to fulfill my evening obligation. My husband voted, and daughter accompanied.

They brought me a sticker, which I made into a page in my Art Journal.

I am thankful for thoughtfulness, the ability to vote, laughter, M&Ms, a fun daughter, a conscientious husband, for scraps of paper and cardboard tissue boxes with designs on them and glue.

I am also thankful for a space to share my stories and for people who care to read them.

I am Glad I Took Time to Look at the Leaves

The wedding is over. There is much to process. It was a beautiful, perfect weekend. I do not use that phrase lightly. Those who know me understand this. Nothing is ever perfect, but this event came mighty close.

The time was amazing. The weather was kind. The leaves were glorious.

The morning after returning home I sat in my favorite spot, looking out the window at my favorite tree. Its branches were mostly bare. Only a few leaves were left clinging to the ends of its limbs.

It inspired this art journal page and poem.

I am glad I took time to look at the leaves
While their glorious color was still on the trees

Before they began the descent to the ground
To be raked up and piled up and blown all around.

I know it’s the season, they never can stay
They all end up down at the end of the day

They don’t wait for me to have things all lined up
To sit with the perfect drink in my cup

They fall when they’re ready, when their time is here
Seasons and cycles, year after year

And I get to watch and see what they do
From green to orange to brilliantly blue

The scene out the window, it changes each day
As more sky appears and the leaves go away

So I’m glad I took time to look at the leaves
While their glorious color was still on the trees.

Breathe

The base for this art Journal page was taken from a Real Simple magazine. I loved the paragraph about breathing and the image of roses.

I layered paint around the edges and then etched the swirls with a skewer. I marked where it felt right and left the rest blank.

I need this reminder often, and the process of creating this page was calming and provided opportunity to just breathe.

 

Hashtagging

I am not an expert in hashtagging on social media. I am barely a novice. I am learning and figuring it out. One thing that I discovered last month while creating art journal pages and sharing them on Instagram is that #compostingtheheartjournal has the words art journal at the end.

How surprising and fun!

I began using that hashtag for the pages I posted and plan to continue with future ones. If you hang out over there, you can see my latest creations by following #compostingtheheartjournal. You can also use the tag to share your own art! I would love to see your work.

October has ended, but that does not mean I plan to end my artistic experiment. It means I am not madly creating something to post and share each day. Now I can slow down, go back, look over, process, add to, and engage my journal in a more relaxed fashion.

October found me creating beauty from words in the day’s Bible reading. I plan to focus on cultivating gratitude in November. I don’t know what that looks like, yet. There is no a clear intention or set of guidelines like last month. It is the beginning of an idea.

I do know that this new territory for me. Uncharted waters. We shall see what unfolds.

I also look forward to sharing pages created before the October experiment. Stay tuned. There is more to come!

But first, a wedding!