Even after years of art journaling, I still create many things I don't especially like. Take this spread for example: while I like the color scheme and individual elements, the whole leaves me – I can't put my finger on it. Unsettled? Needled? Uncomfortable?
As I write this, I think back to what prompted me to create this page: I had had an argument with someone close to me, and I came to my art supplies indignant and defiant and angry. It's funny how, even unintentionally, my emotions become tangled in my creations; I am my art, and my art is me. A beautiful realization, even if the sentiment recorded in this spread is not a particularly cheerful one.
How much is your artwork partnered with your emotions? Do you ever look back at your work and see unexpected messages peering out from the pages? More and more, I find that my art journal is a place for my unconscious self to speak to my aware self, communicating things I have hidden, avoided, or turned deaf ears upon, if only I take the time to look. Slightly scary, and pretty cool.
So yes, even though this spread makes me uncomfortable in ways I can't quite articulate, I am grateful to have had the chance to empty my head and heart through intuitive painting and collage, capturing a moment in time that will represent my journey and whisper words of wisdom to my present, aware self again and again. I so love art journaling.