AK!
The temptation was to not put this entry in at all. I think my husband's words were "...a scrawny coyote". Self deprecation is charming right? Well, not really. One of the things that I am trying to foster, both in my daughter and in myself is to never, never, never negatively critique one's own work. Let the other person be the judge (see my husband's comment, the shyter). Yet, here, in my account of my art journaling journey, I want to assert that to DO ART is important.
A good friend of mine started her art journal not too long ago. It was a Friday night, just the girls, and a lovely setting of newspaper and paint and scissors and glue. The conversation, while we were getting ready, went something like this:
Friend "OK, I've got pencils, paint and some loose paper"
Me "Why loose paper?"
Friend "to paint on"
Me "Where's your art journal that we bought together?"
Friend "Well, I thought I'd just start on some scrap paper"
Me "But the whole point is to have it in the book, so you can refer back to it, see where you were that day"
Friend "What if I wreck it?"
Me "What?"
Friend "the book. What if I wreck those nice sheets of white paper?"
Me "Oh no you don't! We're gonna dive right in, bring that journal"
This was before our sensory exercise in which we discovered our inner brave child. The page did not look so daunting and we had a lovely, deep exploration of feeling and expression.
This painting, not so much. But I did reconnect with my watercolour set, and played with eyes and technique. I feel rather good about this mangy wolf and his weird forest.
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