
I worked on this art journal spread two autumns ago. I used up a bunch of collage scraps that I'd saved for years, not knowing what to do with, and added acrylics, crayons, wax pastels, and texture paste (try this recipe to make your own!).
These pages are somehow unsettling to me; maybe it's the oversaturation, the business, or the rawness. Regardless, it causes me to pause and seek out what, exactly, it is that I don't like -- and prompts me to turn the page and try again.
My experiments in art do not have to result in perfection. In fact, they rarely do. We as a society, as a world, are obsessed with success, and failure is often a threat. Not so in my art journal. Here, I can play and seek out and explore and find comfort in the tension and disharmony of my mistakes. Here, I can accept them for what they are.
I thank them for the wisdom they've given me. And I turn the page.


