The 100 Day Project

India ink on gouache mono-print background.

Hello! It's been a while (months!) since my last post, but I've had a good excuse: starting mid-February and finishing on Memorial Day, I went for:

#The100DayProject

Watercolor on pre-washed ink background.

100 days of super-fun, super-disciplined, and very consistent art practice which then, well, exhausted me. Because 100 days is a lot of days. But I had fun--I did!

Watercolor and ink diptych.

Anyone who has followed my blog or Twitter (X) account knows how much I enjoy themed challenges: NaNoWriMo, Inktober, even small 5-day personal project sprints, I have done them all. Usually these challenges have been built around an established goal such as writing 50K words in a month, or 31 days of ink drawing. The 100 Day Project was different in that it allowed room for participants to choose their own projects. For me this was the perfect time to work on the dozens of pre-painted backgrounds I had on the ready and stored away to finish "one day."

Something I do when I can't think of what to paint, or I don't feel particularly motivated, is to experiment with color. Whether I paint on individual sheets of watercolor paper or inside my sketchbook, I like to take bottled ink, watercolor, water-soluble graphite and/or watercolor crayons and just go for it, washing-in loose swaths of color, the looser the better. Not only is it restful to swish paint around without a goal in mind, but when the paint dries I then have a potential background for a more complete painting.

Watercolor on, um, watercolor!

The only drawback to this method is the backgrounds can easily add up to an unmanageable amount. Eventually I'm faced with the day when I have to realize: "One day" is NOW.

Mixed-media using so many things I don't remember them all.

And for the 100 Day Project, NOW brought with it much more than 100 days of using up pre-toned paper, including:

1. Just like when I first painted the backgrounds, I never really knew how I would finish each one on the different days of the challenge. I didn't know what the subject matter would be, or what colors I would use, or if the results would even be any good. In other words, I didn't have a plan other than the plan to show up every day. And that turned out to be the very best plan of all.

2. By not having a set plan I was completely open to surprise: spilled ink became rain; dark blobs became mountains; accidentally putting the wrong color on my brush became my favorite color and I couldn't imagine using anything else.

3. Having to paint something new every day forced me out of my comfort zone. To break what could have been a monotonous chore, I tried colors I tend to avoid (red in particular) or I painted on unusual paper sizes, scraps from larger pieces that then became, for instance, a series of diptychs. An added bonus was some unexpected de-cluttering, putting those scraps to good use.

4. Adhering to a daily schedule of "paint, scan, post to social media" meant I had to work to a deadline and that meant I had to let whatever happened happen. I didn't have the luxury or time to fuss, rework, or start over. I just had to accept what was on the page and look forward to tomorrow.

5. Which also meant that some days my work was really, really bad. Again, if a piece didn't work, I had to let it go. But then I noticed something strange: no matter how bad a piece was, there was always one, if not more, parts about it I liked. Which then meant: not one minute of the challenge was a waste. Every day held valuable lessons and growth.

6. Limited time left little time to think. Often the only thing I could think of painting was trees: trees on a hill, trees by themselves, trees leading into a forest of yet more trees. At the same time, though, I was worried the repetition would be boring for my viewers. A major element of the project was the injunction that you had to post and show your work in public and I worried people would soon get sick of seeing so many trees. However, I then remembered what my wonderful art teacher, the late Gary Sanchez always said: "Don't just paint a sunflower. Paint a hundred sunflowers. A thousand sunflowers! Become a sunflower expert!" I still might not be an expert, having at least 876 more trees to go to reach one thousand, but I'm on the way!

7. Expert or not, the thought of showing my work every day was scary. I soon discovered there was absolutely nothing to be afraid of. The people who saw my work were so kind, supportive, complimentary, funny, and appreciative of my efforts and willingness to tackle the project that this alone made every minute worth it. I am so grateful for their encouragement as well as the many times they let me know how inspired they had become to embark upon their own creative paths. It was beyond amazing to think my little trees were actually making a difference to people. Because at the end of the day, isn't that what the arts are about: making a difference?

Water-soluble graphite, ink, and watercolor crayons.

Now that the project is over and I've sorted through my sketchbooks and papers and cleared my work space in preparation for the next challenge (!) and finally written this post, I've matted and readied a few of my favorite 100-Day pieces for sale. You can find them on my website under "Artwork." Enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Tip of the Day: The best challenges are never about the finished work. Instead, regard of them as a framework to use as a focusing tool, asking yourself:

• What would I like to learn from a challenge? A new skill; an improved skill; how to use my materials; or simply a chance meet other creatives?
  
• What can I give up in my daily schedule to make time for a challenge? What activity isn't serving me as much as taking time for my creative work could do?
• What is the one thing I've wanted to try but never have--could I do it now, or is there a later date I can set aside this year and give it my full attention?

I hope the answer to the last question is "Yes!" Happy Creating!

The Grief Scarf

One night during the early weeks following my husband's death, I listened to a radio interview with Michelle Obama promoting her most recent book. Part of the conversation delved into how she had used knitting as a way to fend off depression and anxiety during Covid. Up to that point in the discussion, I had only been half-listening, not really paying attention, but at the word "knitting" I perked up, curious to learn how something as basic as yarn could turn your mood around. I was also intrigued that a First Lady could share such common feelings as anxiety and depression.

Until I discovered--and became more interested in--beading and art, I loved to knit. Over the years I made both my husband and myself countless pullovers, cardigans, vests, and of course, scarves. My main times to pick up yarn and needles were Sunday mornings when we watched motor racing on TV: Formula One, Indy cars, Moto GP, super bikes. Honestly, my husband would have watched lawn mower racing if it had been televised and the mowers went fast enough. Sitting beside him cheering on his favorite drivers I grew to love the sport too, but found I needed something like knitting to feel a little more productive during those endless lap-after-lap battles. After a while, though, we eventually had enough knitted clothing to last several lifetimes and I began to simply enjoy the races without the need for extra activity.

But after the interview with Mrs. Obama, I thought, well, maybe knitting would be fun. I had the needles, and a trip to the craft store was easy enough. The next morning I got in the car and drove to the nearest strip mall, quickly finding a soft, lilac/lavender chenille I thought would be perfect for a winter scarf.

When I got home is where things became more challenging. Of the dozens of needles I had packed away, the only size I didn't have was the one the yarn called for, Number 9. Too bad, I thought, 8.5 will have to do.

I didn't have a pattern. No problem, just cast on some stitches, right? I knew that if I knitted a standard stocking stitch it would result in a curled scarf that could double as a pool noodle, and garter stitch seemed too easy. Moss stitch would be the one for me. Which would also require that I concentrate, be aware of what I was doing at all times, and be willing to unpick any wrong stitches; none of which I was very good at right then and there.

Never mind, I told myself after the first several mismatched rows. Just carry on no matter what happens, exactly how I was living my life at that point. I was becoming familiar with making mistakes and taking countless missteps. Much of the time all I could do was laugh through my tears as I imagined my husband's mock-horror at my inexpert attempts to get by.

But "get by," I did. Last week I finished the final row of the scarf, and people, it is the worst thing I have ever made in my entire life. And you know what? I don't care. Every dropped stitch, gaping hole, wrong pattern twist is a witness to how I'm surviving, and I'm proud of myself. I'm trying. I'm doing my best. I've knitted a scarf that when it's scrunched around my neck not a soul will know what's "wrong with it."

 

There are so many lessons woven into this strange little piece of handiwork, first and foremost being that even in the depths of despair, when I was certain I couldn't walk across the room or turn on a light to see what I was doing, taking some kind of action, any action, took me to the next step. After that, I took another, and another. I kept going.

I learned that creativity doesn't have to be grand. I might not have the energy or focus to work on my new novel, paint a series of watercolor forests, or submit my last manuscript to sixty different agents, but I can still do something. Knitting is soothing, meditative, a rhythm of knit one, purl one I find calming regardless of the order I follow. Working with my hands helps me to watch movies and news programs more easily. (For some reason I previously couldn't sit through more than ten minutes of any program without feeling restless and scared. I'm glad to say that's well behind me now.) 

More than anything else, the Grief Scarf, as I call it, taught me that mistakes are unavoidable. They happen. I have the choice to fix my stitches if I think they are important enough (I don't), or I can start over and use my new-found strength and knowledge to try a fresh outcome. Which is precisely the path I've chosen, starting all over again with a new project I've named the Happy Scarf:

This time I've got the right size needles and I'm going with easy and fail-proof garter stitch. I chose a bright yellow inspired by the Japanese practice of kintsugi or kintsukuroi: mending broken items, mainly pottery, with gold. In Japan, when an object such as a valued tea cup breaks, molten gold is poured between the cracks, making that object more beautiful because it has a history, including flaws and accidents. It represents, as I read in one online article, "a life well-lived." A worthy goal if I've ever heard one.

Thank you as always for visiting. Keep stitching!

Creating With the Seasons, Part I: Artwork

Happy Spring!

For everything there is a season . . . A time to write, and a time to paint. A time to be totally inspired and a time to completely lose it--

Hello, everyone! Time, where does it go? It seems like forever since I've had "time to blog" or do much of anything else for that matter.

My time shortage started early this year when I found myself fostering a stray kitten at work. I was well aware that 2022 was the Year of the Tiger, but the last thing I ever expected to find outside my back door was a tiny, hungry baby cat. She was adorable and I would have done anything to keep her (impossible at this current point in my life). Despite my lack of space and ability to be with her as much as I wanted, I did everything I could over a six week span to get her healthy, playful, and ready for adoption. It was one of the most fun things I've ever done and I still miss her to pieces, but now that I know she's in good hands and safely onto the next stage of her journey, it's time to get back to work: writing, painting, and yes, blogging.

Prior to kitten-sitting I had been planning to write a post about my intention to draw and paint within a series of some kind for the year. I'd often heard of artists painting a series of pictures as a way to go deeper into a single subject or theme and also bring some unity to their work. The idea appealed to me as I thought it could bring more focus and discipline to my daily sketching practice, focus that would help me produce more finished, polished pieces. The trouble was I didn't know what kind of series I wanted to try.

I tossed around a lot of ideas, e.g., choose a building I liked in town and paint it multiple times from different angles; create a series of pictures based on the displays at the dinosaur museum; sketch people and dogs at the dog park. Unfortunately, none of these ideas felt like something I wanted to work on more than once. Yes, they were interesting enough on their own, but to paint over and over? I was worried I would become so bored after my third attempt to sketch the downtown Wells Fargo building I'd never want to open my sketchbook again. It wasn't until my husband suggested I try basing some work on the seasons of the year that everything fell into place.

Suddenly I had specific goals to pursue. My first step was to sit down and make numbered lists under the broad headings of each season, brainstorming subjects that fit each particular time of the year. After that I created lists of sub-categories, for instance, under the heading of "autumn" the first images that came to mind were acorns and squirrels, sweaters and scarves, bonfires, steaming mugs of tea, rainy skies, and beautiful trees. Once I had those things listed I continued mapping entirely new ideas for a seasonal series based on each subject, e.g., squirrels in summer, squirrels in spring, squirrels bounding through the snow . . . it eventually became quite endless.

Another advantage to this plan that I liked besides never having to decide "what to paint" again is that, at least for me, the seasons signify different emotional and spiritual states to explore. Themes such as renewal, growth, and letting go, topics I would usually write about are now themes I can express through color and composition, showing joy or even a little sadness through a seasonal lens. 

Right now my first attempts to go with the seasons revolve around my sketchbooks and a small painting-a-day practice. I'm currently concentrating on trees including the quick sketch I've put at the top of this post, but soon those trees will be full of birds, flowers, squirrels and even kittens. I only hope I have enough time each day to keep going!

Tip of the Day: Spring is in the air, a great time for both writers and artists to consider starting a nature journal. Always keep in mind that you don't have to draw or paint to create a beautiful journal. Instead of drawing, try some collage using items like seed packets, handmade papers, or fabric. Experiment with dipping leaves, sticks, or pods in ink or paint and printing your impressions onto your journal pages, or paste in the actual plant materials. Take photographs and add them to your words. 

And speaking of words, that's exactly what I'll be taking a look at in my next post: Creating with the Seasons, Part II: Writing. See you soon!

Introducing my Etsy Shop: Valerie Storey Designs

 

At last! I'm so happy to announce the opening 

of my Etsy Shop: 

Valerie Storey Designs

"Inspired by the past, created for today."

Earrings, bracelets, necklaces and pendants -- I have a brand! Everything is handmade by me, one-of-a-kind, never to be repeated and all with free USA shipping. 

Here's a small selection from the sixteen items I'm currently listing:

 

Although quite a few of the individual beads I've used were purchased right here in Albuquerque, many of them are from all over the world, collected during my travels to places such as Taiwan, Portugal, and Spain. I'm always looking for distinctive, unusual beads whenever possible, and often these are only available in very small quantities, guaranteeing that whatever I make from them will be one-time-only pieces.

Similar to the way I write and paint, my approach to beading depends a lot on the magic of randomness. I start with a handful of color (oh, how I love color!) and let the beads find their own way into a design often inspired by my many years spent visiting museums and galleries. Art history has always had a big influence in everything I do, inspiring my novels such as Overtaken and The Great Scarab Scam, but it's still a huge surprise to me to see how a piece will turn out: Egyptian, Etruscan Revival, mid-century modern: every bead tells a story!

One of the most surprising things to have come out of all this is my new appreciation for photography. Etsy requires a wide variety of product shots, and I have to admit the process was difficult for me to learn--I almost gave up at one point I found it so hard. But after several days of trial and error, I think I'm on the right track to figuring it all out: light boxes, satin drapery, as much daylight as possible . . . confusing at first, but like all creative endeavors, definitely worth pursuing.

Anyway, I hope you like my efforts and that you can visit my shop in time for the holidays! Over the coming weeks I'll be listing new items, so please stay tuned.

Tip of the Day: While I will always consider myself first and foremost a writer, art, beading, and working with hand-built pottery has enriched my life beyond measure. I can't imagine a day going by without at least a few minutes sketching or working on a new design for a bracelet or pair of earrings. The strongest advantage of having these varied interests is that they really do feed each other, especially when I'm stuck or hit some kind of road-block. Going back and forth between, say, a difficult scene in a particular chapter, to figuring out if blue beads look better with gold or silver findings, keeps my imagination active and open to receive the answers I need. Better than working solely on one project until you reach potential burn-out, always try to have another creative outlet ready and waiting. You'll be glad you did! 

UPDATE: Please note my shop has now moved to Valeriestorey.com

7 Ways to Stay Creative Every Day

 

Quick pastel pencil and watercolor study on Arches paper. 20 minutes.

Stay creative every day. It's a great idea, but how do you really put it into practice? Especially on the days when time goes by like quicksilver and you barely have time to breathe, let alone work on your novel or latest series of pen and ink marine sketches.

Life has been a lot like that for me this last month. I'm lucky if I get to revise a single WIP page a day. Don't even mention editing a full chapter. But none of that means I've given up on my creativity or any of my on-going projects. What it does mean is that I've had to maintain momentum, keeping the ball rolling on the days when my time and energy are so limited it seems I will never complete a single project this year.

After a lot of trial and error, though, I've discovered seven things I can do to keep my creativity afloat on both the good and bad days, starting with: 

1. Eat breakfast. Lunch and dinner too. Not only is a balanced, healthy diet good for boosting your spirits and stamina throughout the day, it can also be an overlooked source of daily creativity. Preparing meals that you enjoy on both a culinary and visual level can easily go beyond just finding something to eat. How about sketching, photographing, or writing about your favorite meals before or after eating? Who knows, you might end up with a cookbook, or a memoir. If nothing else you can add the same meals to feed your fictional characters on the written page. I love books that make me hungry for a serving of pad thai or a plate of brie and fresh garden pears. For some helpful ideas on how to use food in your writing as well as what to cook for yourself, visit my posts on how to use food in your writing, along with vegetarian meal suggestions and how to make The Colonel's Muesli for the best breakfast ever.

2. Find time to sit still and do nothing. Call it a nap, meditation, or sheer idleness, but it's good to sit still, close your eyes, and release the need to "stay busy" for at least 15 minutes a day. Be comfortable with letting the world spin for a bit without feeling that you have to help push it along. Once you've learned to relax into "non-action" you'll also be amazed at how many ideas and solutions to creative dilemmas will come to mind.

3. Spend 20 minutes making friends with your tools and materials. Experiment. Play. Scribble some pastels on toned paper. Arrange some magazine cut-outs into a quick collage or a found poem. Freewrite with purple gel pens. The key is to go fast. In under half an hour you'll have accomplished at least two objectives: 1) You've exercised your creative muscles, and 2) You will have a piece of art or writing that can either be considered a finished piece or a starting point for further exploration. And all on the day you thought you'd never get anything done. A genuine win-win.

4. Read. I can't imagine a day without reading--fiction, nonfiction, poetry, screenplays--and I hope you can't either. Literature feeds the soul. To me it's as important (maybe more so!) as food. The only downside to falling in love with a wonderful book or story is wanting to stay with it, "just one more chapter!" Which is usually when you realize you've been reading so long you haven't done a thing to foster your own creative pursuits. My answer to this is to set a timer for when I want to read during the day (30 minutes is perfect), or I use reading as a reward, what I get to do after I've written my own word quotas or filled in a few sketchbook pages. Another tactic is to read only at night, choosing a book over a movie or TV program.

5. Declutter. Toss or recycle at least one item a day: an old piece of mail; a worn-out T-shirt; a spool with 10 inches of thread left on it. We all have things that are unnecessary, taking up needed space without adding anything in return, or belongings that we can't stand having in our lives any longer. The other night I overhead someone say, "If you don't like it, throw it away." At first I was a little shocked, but then it made total sense. How can you maintain a creative life with things that disturb you, or that keep you stuck in some debilitating way? Surround yourself with only what inspires you, or as Marie Kondo teaches, "brings you joy."

6.  Develop a "limited" journal style. While journaling is always an excellent creative pursuit in itself, it can easily be neglected while we're immersed in a larger project. Either we're too busy to journal, or worse, feel we don't have anything to write about. My answer here is to think in terms of 12. Open your journal and number from 1-12, leaving as much space between lines as you think you'll need to express a full thought. When you're finished, jot down twelve amazing things that happened during the day. Or twelve things you liked about the book you're reading, or twelve things you don't like. Twelve things to be grateful for. Twelve possibilities for your next WIP scene. Twelve things you'd like to paint or draw. Use any of the twelve points as subjects to journal about in more depth when you have more time.

7. Set out what you need to accomplish your next day's work. Before you go to bed each night, choose what it is you want to do with your creativity the following day or weekend. Perhaps you want to work on a particular chapter of your WIP, or you want to prepare a collection of magazine headlines to have ready for a found poem. Decide what you need to have available to fulfill your task and then assemble the pieces, laying everything on your desk or work space in advance. Set out your notes, your chapter drafts, your fountain pens, reference photos, paper and paints in one convenient place. When you're ready to work, every pen, dictionary, and chocolate bar is there for you, no excuses and no wasted time hunting down your tools.

Tip of the Day: Staying creative every day is really about living creatively every day. Paying extra attention to things we might not regard as inherently "creative" can turn the ho-hum into the spectacular. Choosing to wear our "good clothes" for an ordinary outing; adding extra sparkle and personality to an email; making a gift for a friend; planting a summer garden--it all adds up to a wonderful, and creative, life. Enjoy!

On the Subject of Erasers

© commonstockphotos / dreamstime.com

 

As much as it would be great to erase 2020, it's a good thing I can't. The year taught me more than I could ever have imagined, and I'm grateful for what I was able to learn and even enjoy during one of the strangest times of my life. And it's not over yet!

2020 makes me think of when I was first learning to draw: it was hard, but I was determined to not give up, even when my art teacher said: "Never use an eraser." Never? Never ever? You're kidding! It sounded horrific, but I was also intrigued and my curiosity impelled me to give it a go.

Coincidentally, it was around this same time that I was reading Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones and her advice on freewriting:  just write, don't think, don't cross out or erase what you've written. Wow; don't erase applied to writing too? 

It does, and I've never looked back. First thoughts and first marks are often our freshest and most honest, especially when we're working on the first draft of anything: a short story idea, the final chapter of a work-in-progress, a sketch of the garden, a journal entry--just write, just draw, and most of all, don't worry. Here's why:

• When we are learning to write or draw or even plant petunias, yes, we want our work to be "right." And of course it's important to eventually learn correct and pleasing proportions, grammar, and sentence structure, but erasing won't make that happen. Only doing the work will teach you what "right" means and what's right for you. If you think a line in your drawing is crooked or wonky and you really hate it--just draw a new one next to it. Same with your writing. Think you've written a "dumb sentence?" Write another one, one you like better. Keep going. (If you're afraid of wasting paper, try writing or drawing on junk mail, old envelopes, used paper bags, or the backs of manuscript pages. Whatever helps you to practice freely and fearlessly, do it.) 

• Not using an eraser teaches you to make confident lines. That's why drawing in ink or writing by hand is such a good discipline--it's not so easy to get rid of what you think you don't like. And who knows? You might love what you've drawn or written the next time you review it. How terrible it would be lose what might be the best of the entire piece.
  

•  Abandoning erasers can lead to developing your own style more quickly, especially with drawing. Keep in mind that a "perfect" drawing is often a boring drawing, one that could be made by any old "Anonymous." (Ditto for many a book.)

• At this point you might be asking, what about erasing the guidelines on a drawing that are the basis or outlines for a painting? Well, if you've got that far, congratulations! Leaving, or erasing, your pencil outlines is entirely up to you, but personally I love seeing pencil lines in a painting. Not only do they add, in my opinion, a lot of extra energy and charm to the finished work, but they help me to see what the artist was thinking and what his or her process was to develop the piece.

• Finally, not using an eraser can turn your drawing or writing practice sessions into memorable creative outings. Standard challenges such as "write for twenty minutes without stopping," or "draw an object or a skyline without lifting your pencil or pen," are far more authentic when you don't erase. Gesture drawing in particular is a wonderful exercise that encourages you to draw from the heart without concern for results. (You can read more about gesture drawing in my recent post on the topic here.)
  

If it sounds as if I'm totally against erasers, believe me, I'm not. Revision work is an entire art in itself, and that's when it's the appropriate time to examine what material to leave in and what to leave out. For artists, erasers in all their many forms are amazing tools for purposefully removing areas of graphite or charcoal to create highlights and white lines such as whiskers on a cat, or veins on a leaf. As for writers, pushing the "delete" button is invaluable when you've given your main character at least three different names and changed your setting midway from Ohio to France without realizing it. The secret is knowing when and why to use your eraser, and always with a light touch. Moderation in all things!

Tip of the Day: Here's a nifty trick for those unused erasers: try making rubber stamps. Whether you use the kind on the end of a pencil or those larger pink rectangles you remember from school, you can easily cut and carve your own design(s) with the aid of an craft knife. Tap the finished stamp into ink or paint to create plenty of new lockdown fun. (Note: Please be very, very careful--those blades are sharp! The Voice of Experience.) See you next time.

Start a Creativity Journal for 2021

 

© creativecommonstockphotos / dreamstime.com

Happy 2021! What are you going to write or make this year? Whatever it is, a good way to get started and stay on track is to use what I call a "creativity journal." Unlike a journal that records general daily thoughts and events, a creativity journal is a dedicated space solely for dreaming, planning, and keeping all of your "how to" notes and supply lists in one convenient place.

The notebook I'm using this year is the "Celeste" edition from Paperblanks and is meant to represent "a Venetian morning alight with marvels." (Sounds good to me!)

The journal is a handy 7" x 5", just right for quick thoughts as well as more serious contemplation. I especially like the elastic band (not shown) attached to the back cover that keeps the journal closed when I'm not using it. I also like the creamy, high-quality paper and the nifty pocket glued to the inside back cover, great for business cards, receipts, and oh, you know, stuff.

One of the first things I like to do with my creativity journal is divide the pages into various sections and headings that I can complete, and refer to, throughout the year. Once these sections are in place I can go back to them at any time. For instance, I have sections for each month of the year with further areas to list how I plan to fill in the weeks. Other sections are specifically to log my ongoing progress with tasks such as manuscript drafts, painting series, or maintaining my blog. My final journal pages are left blank for all those deep, meaningful questions always at the top of my mind, e.g., What do you long to make if time, money, and skill wasn't a problem? Very important issues!

More journal sections I've included in the past that you might like to try using are:  

• A place to record accomplishments, finished projects, sales and reviews.
• A section for how-to notes taken from books or magazine articles.
• Areas to paste in small motivational magazine photos and quotes.
  
• Pages for baby steps: things to do on a daily basis that will take me to the finishing line.
• A place to list favorite supplies or ones I'd like to try in the future.
• Sales opportunity pages: lists of agents, editors, craft fairs, online sales outlets
• Pages devoted to ideas for branding, asking myself, What's my message; what's my theme?
• A place to list possible workshops, classes, books to read, or any areas I need to research in order to accomplish my goals.
  

I'm sure you have plenty of other ideas for things to include in your own journal, but the one section I most enjoy is my vision board. This is something I usually spread over two facing pages, or better yet, the journal cover itself (unless, of course, I'm using a Paperblanks "Celeste" journal and wouldn't dream of pasting on a single sticker!). 

 

To make a vision board in your journal, simply start by asking: Where do I want to be by the end of the year? What kind of creative life do I want that will express my highest potential? 

 

Rather than writing out your answers, go with your intuition and fill your board with collage and artwork. Use magazine cut-outs, glitter pen doodles, fortune cookie sayings, vintage ephemera, bits of junk mail, anything that visually portrays your goals for a colorful, exciting, and satisfying year ahead.

Tip of the Day: Go slow. Take your time with your journal and remember creativity is a process. You've got a whole year ahead to fill in your journal pages with lists, plans, and ways to make your dreams come true; there's no need to rush. Some years I've had to wait all the way until December to know exactly what it was I wanted or needed to do. The main thing is to look upon your journal as yet another part of your creativity, so make it a joy to use. 

Wishing you the happiest of journal discoveries for a bright new year!

Gesture Drawing, Gesture Writing

Gesture drawings on newsprint using my favorite Koh-i-Noor Magic Pencil

 

Way back in January 2020 when the world was a bit more normal I did two things that while temporarily gone now, managed to keep me from throwing in the creativity towel. The first was when I joined a local drawing group that met on Thursdays after lunch, and the second was attending life drawing sessions with the New Mexico Art League. The one element these two groups had in common was an emphasis on figure drawing, and in particular, gesture drawing.

At the time of joining these groups, I wasn't a stranger to gesture drawing, I just hadn't done very much of it. I'd certainly read about it in various art books, and even got to try it out several times during some basic art classes. But other than those rare instances, I'd never really taken the idea seriously, or made it a part of my daily drawing practice.

All that changed in January, especially in the Thursday group where gesture drawing practically took center stage. Every week it was the first thing we did as soon as we were seated around the art table with big pads of newsprint, soft pencils and pastels, sometimes paint, and of course our model--which was always each and every one of us. We took turns holding poses for up to a minute or so at a time with usually about five to six different contortions: some hilariously funny, some more difficult to maintain than others, and all of them, I now realize, incredibly valuable. Being comfortable with a loose and imperfect drawing style that centered on shapes rather than details grew my confidence as an artist, especially when I found myself side-by-side with a roomful of professionals at the NM Art League! 

Although I only got to attend a limited amount of sessions with these two very different art groups before Covid closed everything down, I miss them terribly. In retrospect I learned so much from those timed drawings: go for the energy; don't think, just draw; find the most important and dynamic lines. One of the main things that struck me was how similar gesture drawing was to freewriting: write, don't think; don't stop to edit; don't censor yourself; first thoughts are often the best thoughts.

When Albuquerque went into lockdown I was truly saddened by the harshness of our restrictions and how I was left without access to friends or creative groups of any kind. I wasn't sure how I would stay on track as far as self-discipline went for either writing or drawing. That's when I realized I had to continue with my gesture drawings, even if it was only me and my laptop. With a small amount of research I was able to find dozens of timed drawing sessions on YouTube complete with excellent models and relaxing soundtracks. Now I can't imagine a day going by without doing some sort of gesture drawing practice.

More than anything, whether we're in lockdown or not, gesture drawing feels good. I love the immediacy of throwing myself into a fast drawing accompanied by the sensation of using my whole body to draw--the exact same way I jump into my freewriting. Some tips that can help your drawing or freewriting sessions to feel equally alive are to:

• Time your sessions, starting with small increments of 1, 2, or ten minutes and building up to a half- or full hour.
• Keep turning the pages; don't be afraid of starting and stopping a line without perfecting or adding detail. Keep going for the new, the fresh, the strongest points of interest.
• Seek out the story wherever you are or from whatever your eye catches. Gesture drawing isn't only about people; cats, dogs, trees, tropical fish, table lamps and laundry can provide you with insightful "poses" that you can use to draw or write about with genuine meaning.
  
• Use a magazine for reference if you really don't have anything to inspire you on the spot. Open the cover and go through the pages from first to last, moving from one eye-catching photograph or headline to the next. Keep your pen moving.
  

Both gesture drawing and freewriting are often thought of as preliminary warm-up exercises before we get to the "real thing." But I think that's a little dismissive and contrary to the heart of creativity: sometimes the quickest sketches--written as well as drawn--can be the most compelling and beautiful. The value of our art shouldn't be measured by the time spent making it.

Lastly, when you're finished drawing or writing for the day, don't be too hasty to toss or tear up your work because you thought it was solely for exercise. Put your pages aside and wait a week or two before evaluating which pieces you like best and which you want to keep, or not. You can either use them as the foundations for a more finished body of work, or simply to save and enjoy for being themselves.

Tip of the Day: One of the best parts of gesture drawing is the chance to experiment with different mediums, something you can use to liven up your freewriting, too. For instance, try writing in an oversized sketchbook with colored gel pens (including gold and silver of course!), soft artists' pencils, or dip pens and bottled ink. It's amazing how breaking away from the familiar (e.g., a computer keyboard) can open entire worlds of possibility and unexplored creativity.

Creativity Kit To Go

My Creativity Kit to Go . . . somewhere . . . anywhere . . .

Been anywhere exciting lately? No? Me either. So far this past week, the most thrilling outings I've had--other than scurrying back and forth between my apartment and the laundry room--have included: three one-hour walks through my neighborhood; two visits to the grocery store; and five round-trip car journeys to work. 

Over the weekend I decided that this wasn't a very inspiring, or productive, way to use my out-of-the-house time. Prior to isolation, I used to love carrying my sketchbook or writer's notebook with me absolutely everywhere: to the museum, the mall, the park, the community center, and yes, even to work (especially to work!). But lately when I've gone out, I simply walk or shop as quickly as I can before rushing back home to write or draw within the confines of my balcony. Without any nice air-conditioned cafes or comfortable seating areas (or the bathrooms to go with them) I've been reluctant to stand outside on the sidewalk to sketch under the scorching sun. It's also been pretty lonely wandering the deserted city streets by myself while the masked strangers I do pass cross the road the minute they see me. I miss my old life, I really do, but recently I've realized that I can't just wallow forever; hence my "creativity kit to go."

The purpose of the kit is to have some art and writing supplies always at the ready, whether it's to scribble in the park sitting on a blanket with a homemade ice coffee, or driving to an empty parking lot to write a quick short story in my car.

I'm still in the process of tweaking things, but for now my kit contains:

• A 20-color set of my favorite Akashiya Sai watercolor brush pens. Twenty pens might sound like a lot, but they're slim and portable and having a full range of color to play with is just plain fun.
• Two water brushes (for spreading and diluting the color from the pens): 1 large flat, 1 large round.
• A mechanical pencil with a packet of extra leads. No sharpening required!
• One kneaded eraser.
• One black ink roller ball pen.
• One black ink fountain pen with two extra ink cartridges. 
• Two small sketchbooks: one for pencil and ink, one for watercolor.
• One damp microfiber cloth in a plastic bag.
• Two folded paper towels.
• One 6-inch ruler (great for sketching buildings and practicing perspective).
• A composition book for writing down ideas, freewriting, poetry, or simply journaling.
• A literary magazine filled with stories, poems, and evocative photography. When taken out of context, the individual lines, titles, and pictures make for excellent writing and art prompts. And if you're feeling tired or out of sorts, hey, just read and renew your spirit for a little while.
• Lastly, a pencil pouch to hold all the pens, pencils, brushes and erasers, with everything then placed in a small tote bag along with the larger items.
 

The best part of having my kit packed and at hand is that I can make the decision to go outside and draw and write without a ton of preparation. It also serves to remind me that I am still a writer, still an artist, still a creative being. I may be isolated, but I'm certainly not incapable of making the best of things. So who's with me? I'd like to invite you to make a kit of your own and to try and use it at least once a day, even if it's just to go into your own backyard. Let's go!

Tip of the Day: Writers and artists are used to working alone, but working in our current state of enforced isolation, complete with face masks, takes solitude to an entirely new level. It can be difficult to inspire yourself day after day, but a surefire way to keep the ideas coming is to try adding a prompt, written or visual, to each page of your sketch- or notebook.