The Expressive Journal - Part 2

It's February. It's 16 degrees outside. The strong winds yesterday blew the water out of Broad Creek. There is ice around the edges of the water. The geese must be freezing! 

And, I have finished week two of The Expressive Journal. It continues to be a very helpful exercise for me as I put my thoughts into paint, color and collage.

Several years ago, a friend asked me to do the illustrations for a book she was writing after the death of her husband. This is one of the sketches from that book. She talked a lot about the difference between being lonely and being alone. Moving past the loneliness and accepting being alone.

This next one uses one of the sketches in Living into Darkness and Finding Light. I love the idea that a heart can embrace pain. The background of this one is an acrylic skin. (acrylic paint poured on wax paper, dried and peeled off) 

This 'grief thing' is sneaky. I am fine and suddenly I have tears running down my cheeks. A thought, music, a picture, the date, the weather... can bring on a 'grief burst.'

 

This one is a poem by Liz Newman and some torn up puzzle pieces from a sketch with an old acrylic pour background.

Another old acrylic pour with some phrases that I pulled out of various books. I had printed out the phrases before I rediscovered the background. I love how they went together.

A good friend of mine always reminds me to just breathe...  The background is an acrylic pour directly on the book pages.

I love this sketch that I did for the other book. Hearts do mend...heal. This acrylic pour seemed made for this.

When I went looking for an 'old book' to use as a journal for this class, I found SO MANY old books on the shelves. Many were textbooks from the 50s and 60s. Titles like - Modern American History (copywrite 1956). I have been ripping off the covers and bindings and throwing the paper in the  recycling bin. (Actually another really great form of therapy right now!) 

However, as I go through all these, I am reminded of the interests we shared and things we have done; family stories and memories come flooding back to me. The books sit silently on the shelves.

The course is now in its third week... I'll be back.