Category: Creating

A Look Inside My Day-Marker Art Journal

Last year Candace Rose Rardon shared three simple ways to keep an art journal, and later followed up with three more simple ways to keep an art journal. I love the tips shared in those posts! And they truly are simple and accessible—the most “advanced” tools you’d need are a glue stick and perhaps a pair of scissors.

One day this summer my mom gave me a set of notebooks, one of which had blank pages. Immediately I knew I’d use it as a little “day markers” journal, à la Candace Rose Rardon. A day marker is something from your day—perhaps a receipt, business card, envelope, ticket stub, scrap of paper, etc.—to mark that day, so it doesn’t just blend in with all the rest.

I’d simply glue the item down with a glue stick, and then write the date and any other details/notes I wanted to jot down.

Here are some pages from that journal:

When I moved to Flagstaff in September, I brought along this journal as well as a glue stick, pen, and small scissors. I kept these supplies all together in a zippered pouch, which I’d pull out at least once per set of off days to record some days. (The pages for this chunk of time in Flagstaff were heavily receipts-based, so it was a fun creative exercise to keep my eyes on the lookout for non-receipt ways to remember a day.)

It’s so fun to page through and relive those days! And this journal was a lot easier for me to crack open than my writing journal—there was never resistance.

That’s what has been so lovely about the practice, I think: how quickly you can start and finish a page (under five minutes). And secondly, it’s been helpful knowing that this journal is just for me and my personal records, so early on I gave myself permission to not make it look good. (Although I’m sharing pages today, this was never my intention when I began and worked in the journal.)

This journal is now falling apart (and bursting open wider than it was ever meant to), so I got a new sketchbook over the holidays (with spiral rings!). It sat untouched for over a week on my desk, until I finally decided I could use this bigger notebook in the same way: for “day marker” pages.

I’ve played in my new sketchbook for 11 days in a row so far! My initial goal is 30 days straight, though if that melds into a 100-Day Project, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.

The right side of January 5 (above) was a sketch for #MomentSketchers, while the left side was another quick gluing of a receipt and shopping list, like in my first journal.

For a few days I’ve been drawing out what I did, or notable happenings.

When I made my collage envelopes for Jean Wilson’s Envelope Exchange, I used the same materials to remember the occasion with a mini-collage on the day’s page (above).

I glued an envelope onto one of my latest pages. Inside I put the note and check I’d received in the mail for my first watercolor commission, as well as a print-out of the dog I’d drawn over with pencil with my Great Aunt Lois when working on said painting. I cut apart the yellow envelope and glued parts of it onto the page.

I’m really enjoying this type of daily journaling. It’s creative, easy, and fun, and looking at old pages takes me back to those moments in time.

Do you keep any sort of art journal? What does your practice look like?

Or, if you’ve never had an art journal before, does this look like something you want to try?

7 years past

Just Move the Pen

I wrote that I’d like to publish a collection of poetry this year, so of course I need to start writing poetry regularly in order to make that happen.

I wrote two poems this fall, and haven’t moved the pen in that direction since. So one day last week I searched for poetry-writing exercises/prompts and saved a bunch of links to a folder on my bookmarks bar. This way, I wouldn’t have that hurdle the next time I’d try to write.

Finally, the other day I acted on my “10 minutes of writing poetry” to-do list item. Sitting down with the intention to write a poem will likely leave you frozen, so I sat down with the intention to do one of the prompts, that’s it. To get myself in the habit of regularly writing freely in this little notebook (from an issue of Flow), which I’ve dubbed my poetry notebook. To condition myself to be okay with writing shit on the page, so that better stuff can come later.

Although I never intended to show these pages with anyone, today I’m going to share what happened that day—as a reminder to myself of how ideas are born and why sitting to write anything for 10 minutes, no matter how “bad” it sounds, can be helpful to one’s creativity.

I went to the first link I had bookmarked and read the first prompt that appeared. Jennifer LoveGrove writes:

One that I’ve used from The Crafty Poet is where you choose a profession or worker of some kind – plumber, accountant, hairdresser, contractor, lawyer, whatever – then brainstorm a list of words associated with this job. I find nouns and verbs work best. The prompt suggests adding in some contrasting terms, which will add tension and depth later. Your title or starting point is to be “The ________________ said you need” and then you write from there, using your word list. My poem “The Mortgage Broker Asks for My Net Income from the Previous Year” in my recent book came out of this exercise.

I chose “teacher” and began to make a list of nouns, verbs, and some contrasting terms, writing whatever came to mind first:

Then on the left-hand page I wrote:

The teacher said you need to study
But I know you must also play

I continued on a new line:

Playing will teach you to share

But then I was bombarded with a bunch of other thoughts about sharing, that you’ll create and entertain yourself, too, plus all the other benefits of play. I noticed there was no rhyme scheme going on here, and I didn’t know what I wanted to say. But instead of halting and trying to write some “good” lines, I let my stream of consciousness continue:

and create and entertain yourself.
You’ll visit worlds never before seen
and

After writing “and,” my mind focused on “never before seen,” and flashed (you’ll see I never even finished the phrase) to the idea of a never-before-seen movie, a premiere. Almost instantaneously, my mind brought up the contrasting idea of painting a never-before-seen picture.

And then as if a water hydrant had cracked open, all of a sudden my pen began to spurt out a list of contrasting things to do, x or y, consume or create: scroll through memes or invent your own using a template, or even creating your own meme. To stare wistfully at a friend’s photo album from a trip to Costa Rica, or take a walk and marvel at nature’s beauties: a squirrel, a bird, a stone, a leaf.

After I had jotted those down, I turned to a fresh page and wrote this list:

Just like that, I now had the idea to write a poem that compares and contrasts different options of things to do—one which is an act of consumption and the other of creation. Its ideas of creation would hopefully inspire and prompt people to use their creativity immediately after reading.

Later I’ll go back to this list and start to make phrases, seeing what sort of structure the poem might take on.

But what’s important here is that it all began with an unrelated prompt about teaching, and allowing the pen to move. By not censoring myself and letting my pen write whatever words were coming to mind, I ended up drawing connections and now I have several ideas of possible poems to pursue!

I started with nothing, and in less than ten minutes I had ideas.

This is how it begins!

Just move the pen. This is how ideas are born.

Write anything and connections will be made, the mind will turn the soil, and with consistent practice shining down, over time, creations will bloom.

Just move the pen.

7 years past

2017: The Year in Sketches

Five years back I was doing a “year in photos” post (2012 // 2013) in addition to my year in books. Since 2017 was my first full year of sketching, I thought I’d bring them all together and look back on the year through the lens of my sketchbook rather than my camera.

January

Above is my first sketch with Moment Sketchers, watching “Parenthood” on Netflix while sick in bed.

While waiting for my flight to Madrid in O’hare, backpack and personal compass in hand, I decided to do my first “out in public” sketch of the trip right there at the gate. I went to a nearby coffee shop and asked for a paper cup, then filled it up at a drinking fountain. I ended up using this very cup for water while painting throughout the following three months!

One day during my week-long Madrid visit I had a lunch and “blue wine” by myself at this restaurant, sketching the whole time I was there and finishing the painting later at the apartment.

This is a card I painted for a friend at Puerta de Alcalá—one of my favorite landmarks in Madrid. It’ll be fun to go back in the future and sketch it again, now that I have a full year under my belt.

February

At the start of the month I flew from Madrid to Naples, beginning my exploration of Italy.

I want to point out that above (and below too, actually—hah!) is an example of one of the sketches in my journal that I strongly dislike—it’s just displeasing for me to look at. That said, I enjoyed the afternoon I sat out on the balcony sketching this scene, which is why I’m sketching in the first place. To slow down and appreciate my surroundings and their corresponding moments, while slowly developing a new skill. Later on I’ll point out a few that I’m particularly pleased/proud of how they turned out, though the intention is always to enjoy the time spent playing with my watercolors.

Near the end of my stay in Naples I spent a day visiting Pompeii. When the week was over I headed to Rome.

After Rome I took the train to Florence, where I spent my next week tuning into smaller moments.

Above is another sketch I really don’t like to look at—but I can still remember that afternoon and the wander walking which brought me to this grassy side of the river. Plus, it’s the action of painting “messes” like these that moved me an inch further along towards “better looking” sketches. The only way out is through. To get better at something, you have to practice where you are now and keep going, even if your results aren’t pleasing to your eye. The act of sketching this scene still gave me experience looking at something and attempting to capture it in pen and watercolor. And it’s the accumulation of such experiences which helped me to paint some sketches I’m particularly proud of later on in the year.

Inspired by paintings in a watercolor journal I’d seen in a gift shop, I tried a new style in the sketch above, skipping the pencil and pen.

When the week was up I took a train to Bologna (where I puked for the first time—but not last—on these travels).

The above sketch is one I’m particularly fond of—both because I’m pleased with the result, and also because while sketching it I met a street poet who then introduced me to some of his friends at a nearby café: Urbana Cafe.

March

From Bologna I took a local train to tiny Dozza, where I worked on a small farm via HelpX for two weeks, in exchange for room and board.

When my farming days were up I took another train to Venice, where I’d spend my final week in Italy.

And then it was off to Munich to visit my friend Max.

Here’s the full story behind the above sketch, and below are two cute swings from Max’s kitchen.

And then I returned to Montpellier where I got to soak in the home comforts at Damien’s parents’ home.

One of my first days back—another Moment Sketchers weekend—allowed me to sketch at Parc du Peyrou, the very first place I’d sketched the day I bought my watercolors the previous fall. How fun to look back and compare!

April

This little sketch above is meaningful to me because it represents an inner shift that had taken place over the past few months, putting my creative pursuits first. That day Damien had to work on his motorcycle (or something), so I decided to take a walk in the nearby garrigue and paint. Later on I reflected that when we’d been together the previous year, I never went on a walk by myself to the beautiful nearby garrigue when we were at his parents’ home. Yet here we were with only a week together this visit, and I was happy spending my afternoon there painting and he was happy to bricoler. Often it’s going back to familiar places (home) and unconsciously breaking from old routines which shows me just how much things have changed underneath the surface.

I’m also proud of the above Pooh watercolor painting, made at the request of Damien’s mother for the nursery she runs out of her home. It was a moment where I could feel I was stretching myself by saying “yes”—stepping into uncharted territories: huge canvas, characters I hadn’t drawn before, knowing it would be on display—but saying “yes” was notably easier this time. (By this point I’d said “yes” to Giovanni in Florence when she’d asked me to paint her, sketched in public every place I’d visited, and continued to nurture a growth mindset when it came to painting. All of this came into play when I stepped up to the challenge and viewed Damien’s mother’s request as an invitation to try something on the border of my comfort zone.)

The very day she asked me about it, Damien and I took the tram into Montpellier to buy a big sheet of watercolor paper at an art shop and I ended up finishing the whole thing by nightfall. To go from “I’m not sure if I can do this” to “I did this!” in such a short timeframe—thanks to taking action—was quite powerful.

May

Once back in Wisconsin at the end of April, much of my time was spent working on the Trains on Main public art project, but May’s Moment Sketchers weekend got me out painting at a nearby park.

June

As you can see, it took the June Moment Sketchers weekend to break my month-long non-sketching streak. Thank you, Moment Sketchers community! Above you can see part of my garden, which was a defining element of my summer.

On a trip to Wausau to visit my great aunt Lois, she pulled out her chalks one night and gave my sister and I an art lesson. (Lois is an amazing oil painter and all-around artist.) Above is the fox I drew—another creation I’m proud of!

July

Painting my friend Chad’s niece (above) is when I created my 100 Portraits project—though again, it was a collection of moments (painting myself way back in January, saying “yes” to Giovanni’s portrait, etc.) which got the idea into my mind and propelled me to begin.

August

I made the above painting while putting together this site, specifically my Values page. It was quite impromptu—I just had the itch and put brush to paper—so I’m glad that I simply began creating before I had time to overthink anything, and I’m also pleased with the creation.

September

A new sketchbook came with me to Flagstaff, but with square pages to mix things up.

Here we go, above is another sketch I’m particularly not fond of, but once again, it brings to mind memories of sitting in the sun that day, soaking up live music, and browsing the art stands.

I worked on this desert sketch at a bar while friends gathered there to watch a football game. I don’t like football but I wanted to socialize, so this was a no-brainer for me. Especially after bringing my tiny watercolor kit everywhere with me since January, I didn’t think twice about painting during the game.

October

The two portraits above, Orion and Charlie, are two I’m quite pleased with. They both turned out better than I expected (based on my past work and what each of these looked like at different points throughout the process), so that’s always a good feeling!

November

This Grand Canyon sketch fell on the “quick” side for me, since I started it in my tent one night (headlight on) with watercolors working from a picture, rather than sitting on site for 3-4 hours and beginning first with pencil and pen as I usually do. So I was surprised to receive comments on Instagram from the Moment Sketchers community with such high praise for this one. It’s interesting how your view of something as the creator can be quite different from how others view it; I’m open to it all.

December

I love this girl so much, but after I shared the portrait some family joked that she looked like an old woman. She’s 19 years old! (And cute!) I wondered aloud for a moment if I should take it off Instagram, not wanting to hurt her feelings or something with a less-than-stellar portrait.

But then my growth mindset regained control. (Phew.)

Painting this one was excellent practice. I learned to take more time getting the locations of facial features correct in pencil before jumping to pen (notably the eyes—they should be lower) and I enjoyed feeling gratitude towards Hanna Rose while painting her. And although I’m not over the moon with the final result, it’s loads better than I thought it would be (again, based on what it looked like during some earlier in-progress moments), so I’m proud of what I transformed it into. Finally, this is portrait #12/100! The twelfth watercolor portrait I’ve ever painted. Ever! So looking at it from that perspective, I have no reason to be anything but proud of this!

As if to prove that point (that the practice is helping), I was really satisfied with my next portrait of Colin.

At a dinner party in December, a friend asked if I would do a watercolor of his dog—my first commissioned piece, if you will. This was my first attempt, but I’m in the process of painting a second. My great aunt Lois helped me see that the right eye is in the wrong place, which is what throws it off. We spent the night before New Year’s Eve sketching this dog in pencil at her kitchen table, so that’ll be one of my first paintings of the new year.

Sketching has certainly been an integral part of this year, and I’m looking forward to painting even more in 2018!

What was integral to your year? Have you done any sketching/creating lately?

7 years past

Christmas Poetry Project (+ Bamboo Toothbrushes)

My family typically doesn’t buy each other Christmas gifts—except for my parents, who would get stuff for us four kids—but this year we decided to start doing no gifts from anyone. We all have what we need and would rather spend time together playing games (or watching “The Office”) than to unwrap things our parents spent money on.

That said, since I had the two weeks before Christmas at home and the itch to create, I gave myself a mini-poetry project. I’d select a poem for each member of my family and gift it to them for Christmas.

This way, I’d be exposed to a greater number of poems during the selection process, helping me along on my poetry journey, while also spending $0 on homemade gifts. It was realistic and thus approachable.

I checked out a poetry anthology from the library and borrowed three other poetry collections from my grandma’s bookshelf:

Then I spent a few days browsing through all of them, looking for anything that reminded me of any of my five family members. I got most of my poems from “The Family Book of Best Loved Poems” (edited by David L. George), though I had some honorable mentions from all of the books.

After I had selected a poem for each family member, I wrote it out by hand on white card stock and then painted a watercolor border on watercolor paper. A little snip, snip, glue, glue, and they were done!

Here are the final poems:

Everyone got a bamboo toothbrush from Mother’s Vault along with their poem, since I’d bought two 4-packs back in August before I moved to Arizona (specifically to give the extras out at Christmas).

For anyone who’s new to this idea, by the way, plastic toothbrushes will never biodegrade. Rather, they will fill our landfills and pollute our oceans. Here’s why bamboo is a fantastic alternative (from Mother’s Vault’s website):

Bamboo is the fastest growing plant with natural antimicrobial properties, making it the perfect material to use. Our mao bamboo toothbrush is made from 100% real biodegradable bamboo, features BPA-free bristles and plastic free compostable packing. This means no plastic waste, no chemicals in your body and no waiting for trees to regrow.

That was the first time I’d ever bought a bamboo toothbrush, and after using it for the past three months, I’m definitely on board to stay bamboo!

Finally, I wrote out a poem for myself as well (while I was at it), featuring Mary Oliver’s “Moments.”

Have you given handmade gifts before? Are any of these poems familiar to you? Do any particularly resonate with you?