A few years ago, I unearthed a travel journal from a month-long trip to Europe that I took in 2006. As I reviewed its pages, I was struck by just how many details of the trip I had completely forgotten. And if the memories of a once-in-a lifetime trip that was so impactful to me could fade away – how much of my day-to-day life is lost? Sensations, emotions, achievements, losses, experiences from the mundane to the exceptional, all transforming from that specific moment in time to become that day, that week, that year, that life…

As I get older and gain a better understanding of how fragile, how brief, and how precious life really is, it's become even more important to me to me experience it to its fullest and to try to retain all of those little moments that might otherwise get lost. It's with this idea that I started the process of recording these moments – a travel journal, of sorts.

A travel journal for life.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013


Earlier this week, I wrote about the process of making ten postcards for iHanna's DIY Postcard Swap and how it takes such courage for me to cut into my beloved supplies and to re-purpose old paintings.  But I'm happy to report, that as I moved along in the project, I got bolder and I became less and less concerned with missteps or the possiblity of wasting materials. (OH, THE HORROR!)

That this project emboldened me became its theme.  There is no real visual consistency in my pieces, but they all used re-purposed materials from my stash that I had some level of reluctance or fear to use and let go of.

I started by cutting up some leather pieces and antique wallpaper and collaging them together with a little bit of light sketching on top of the paper pieces.  Then I added my sentiment about courage - because cutting up stuff you love is scary, yo.

Then I worked on a metallic series  because I had some super cool mirrored tile (don't worry, not glass; I suspect the postal service may frown on that) and some silver leaf paint that I wanted to play with on top of layered acrylic paste.  In this series, I really pushed myself because in one (the upper left) I actually cut into an old drawing to create the circular windows peaking out of the silver leaf.  Hence the sentiment tagged on these three - "Perhaps I am stronger than I think..."

Since I loved the piece with the cut up drawing so much, I decided to deconstruct a painting and reassemble it in different ways.  I really like the use of circles here, it's symbolic of the painting's continuing life-cycle!

Finally, I had two odd-balls that I just experimented with along the way.  I'm not super-crazy about the way they turned out - but they were all part of the process...

So, I'm addressing these little babies as we speak and preparing to send them out into the world.  Thanks, iHanna for organizing this - it was so much fun; a great opportunity to experiment and gain a little courage along the way!

Sunday, November 10, 2013


My cousin Dori recently posted on Facebook about an annual DIYpostcard swap in which she participates. I’ve been striving to get the old creative juices flowing again and I thought this would be a great project to push me a little further.  I love the premise – I love the idea of creating art that will go out into the world and find a home with someone who I don’t know and (hopefully) bring them a little joy. 

Also, having a deadline helps ensure that I will actually, you know, like – finish some stuff. 

Plus, I get to get stuff in the mail!  I’ll do pretty much anything to get fun stuff in the mail...  It's almost as though this project was made specifically for me!

Some pretty good pieces tapped for a new life.
I decided to use this project to push myself out of my comfort zone.  One of the things I struggle with in my art (and life, for that matter) is to proceed without fear.  I tend to be quite precious with my art-stuff.  I often get paintings to a certain point – that point is usually somewhere around pretty good. It’s at that point that I get paralyzed; I don’t want to keep pushing and ruin something that’s pretty good, because hey, pretty good ain’t easy to achieve.  Plus, pretty good can deteriorate into suck-fest pretty quickly and then I’d be sorry. So instead pushing past that fear of ruining pretty good, I often just settle for where I’m at and then a bunch of pretty good things get filed away and never used.

I also do this with materials.  I’ll find a gorgeous piece of embossed leather in the scrap bin, or darling mini canvases on clearance and I buy these things because I just KNOW they will be perfect for SOMETHING, SOMEDAY…  But then I get scared to use them because a more perfect opportunity to incorporate them might be right around the corner and then I will kick myself for having frivolously used them up on an experiment.  And then those materials get stored away and forgotten about along with the pretty good paintings.

Deconstruction. (Scary.)
So for this project, I made a rule that I would only use materials and paintings that I already have.  I mustered up all my courage and forced myself to deconstruct some pretty good pieces and to part with some of those precious odds-and-ends in order to breathe new life into my artwork that I will send out into the world.  

Reconstruction. (Fun!)
For me, this takes a great deal of strength and courage. When I first started this project, I was very tentative, only taking edges of paintings and cutting into my trimmings when I was certain they would work.  But each piece gets a little more daring than the next and I’m finding a lot of joy in deconstructing and reconstructing.  Also, I’m feeling stronger and I’m finding my courage.

Who would have ever thought that a little DIY postcard swap project could have become an exercise in finding one’s courage?

I guess it’s true… 

Courage is found in unlikely places.

Thursday, November 7, 2013


I’ve really been neglecting my creative/artistic side lately and that’s been bothering me.  A lot.  One of the major reasons that it’s been so neglected is that I don’t have a space to be creative in.  I’ve been meaning to create a space in the basement for as long as we’ve lived in this house – but it’s so dank and dingy down there; it’s not exactly inviting and it certainly isn’t inspiring.  Plus, if I retreat to the basement, I don’t get to talk and unwind w/my hubby in the evenings, and that’s pretty much my favorite part of the day.  So, all my beautiful papers and paints and pastes and tools continue to molder, unattended in the basement, and my creative spirit suffers a similar fate.

Several days ago, my darling friend Robb visited me for the weekend.   I love my Robbie so very much for so very many reasons – but one of the major reasons is that he is, by far, one of the most creative people I’ve ever met.  With a mind always working on overdrive; he sees infinite possibilities for beauty where most of us see none, and he has an uncanny knack for producing exquisite somethings out of nothing. He always makes me excited about making stuff, so we planned our entire weekend around being crafty.  On Saturday we visited the Society for ContemporaryCraft and Creative Reuse to get inspired and gather supplies. (Oh, and the wine and spirits shop, we mustn’t forget that integral part of the equation).  Then we moved all of my neglected supplies up from the basement to a giant table that we put in the center of my dining room and that’s where we took up residence for the remainder of the weekend.  We blasted music, we drank wine, and we created things well into the night and throughout the next day.  I felt energized and excited; I had forgotten how great it felt to push paint around and to make stuff.  One idea spawned another which created another until I was thoroughly engulfed in an avalanche of creative.  I couldn’t even keep up with myself. 

Monday was tough.  Robb went home and I went back to the daily grind.  All I could think about all day were the projects that I’d left behind on that table.  Later that evening, when Mike and I arrived home, we had to laugh at the spectacle that was our dining room. “It looks like your creative exploded.” He said.  “Well, it kinda did.” I admitted.  I sighed and moved forward to clean up the mess and move the table full of supplies back to the basement.  But before I did, I thought maybe I would just finish up that one thing…  I changed into my comfies, turned on the music, and sat down to work.  Mike and I laughed and talked back and forth as he played on his computer in the living room and I worked away.  The evening passed so quickly, it got too late to worry about packing up supplies and moving them down to the basement.  As I drifted off that evening feeling happy and content, I thought - even though it’s obtrusive, even though it’s an eyesore, perhaps the art table can stay upstairs for a while longer.  

Because really, what’s so bad about having your creative explode right in your dining room?