Colors of Brown and Black

 Colors of Brown and Black

Repressed emotions form

Illogical chatter.

In colors of brown and black

They grimly scatter.

Like rabbits in gun fire

They vanish in dust.

Coherent expression

Is desperately lost.

Tracing through random tracks

And fleeting flashbacks

Finds hues of fractured masks

For storing the past.

A New Journal A New Journey

Parasite

Healing

The Two Anns

Crying

Is this just a new, elaborate, complicated puzzle? With 4 dimensions: Physical, Intellectual, Psychological, and Spiritual? Created by a 4 year old?! How'd it get so complicated? Am I just one of the pieces?

 

Coping Tools Reeling in the Pain

For Illustration Day: Tools

Coping Tools Reeling in the Pain

 I used to participate in Illustration Friday years ago, but apparently that's no more. I found this site instead, during my search. I like having a prompt every once in a while to motivate me.

Trauma

 Trauma

Stuck and stagnant Awkward and shaking

But not really rooted Searching for joy

Nothing’s holding me here I strictly follow rules

Trying to shake free from nothing So that no-one sees my sickness

It ended years ago It started years ago

But every flashback adds I diligently changed my life

Another strand to the complex web Wiggled free from every event

Of rewind and replay But never really escaped

Blood and energy congeal Diet, exercise, and therapy

I curl up in a cobweb cocoon I accomplished more than most

Slip into insomnia sleep Reshaped my mind

And wait for nothing To recover nothing

Tangled Zen

 

Tangled behind a trained conscience

That’s holding firm

Good Bye forms cryptic blotches

On a journal page

An intuitive process for what can never

Be read or heard

As I make a conscious effort to deny

My treacherous heart

Zen - a state of calm attentiveness in which one’s actions are guided by intuition rather than by conscious effort

Some More from the Doodle Journal

Twisted Perception

Twisted Perception

This rock turns in on itself
Parched and no pity
For those God condemns

In a dream
The old man is beaten and stoned
But not dead

I think they were wrong
But it’s my job
To clean up the mess

12-15-19

I Crack Myself Up

Waiting for Lab Results

Here I am, nesting in my big comfy box of confusion, with antennae up, waiting for Lab Results. Even the snails are moving faster than I am...

Doodle Therapy

These are some of my doodles using the Automatic Drawing Technique that I mentioned in the previous post, where I try to draw without thinking about what to draw, and let my subconscious take over. I usually spend about 20 or 30 minutes on them, and then try to decipher any subconscious meaning they might have. The deciphering happens this way - When I open my writing journal and then look back at the drawing, I write down the first 2 words or phrases that come to mind. Then, I just start writing about my day. Generally the meaning starts to come to me, but then I'll either look up the 2 words in the thesaurus or some of the images in a dream dictionary, or both.

Processing Death - colored pencil

Regeneration - colored pencil

Alienation - ball point pen

This last one, I spent several hours on, because I had found that place again, that I knew as a child, where the hours would just slip away in peacefulness. It's been years since I've felt that way while drawing, and it felt good. When it was done, I remember thinking, "wow, I had forgotten how much fun this was."

I was talking with a friend about it the next day, and we came to the conclusion that as self employed business owners, we had gotten in the habit of planning everything, including our art. It's been about 5 years since I first started trying intuitive art methods with finger painting, and I'm just now starting to break that habit of planning everything in advance. It amazes me that what I took for granted as a child, has been such a struggle to get back.

Intuitive Art Journey

I've been working on creating art intuitively for the last several years, and it's been a struggle. I wanted to get back to that peaceful place that I knew as a child, where I had no expectations or preconceived ideas when drawing. Finger painting seemed like a good place to start. It was magical fun when I was a kid, and I thought it would bring all that back, but it only frustrated me. Adult expectations kept nagging me.

Acrylic on scrap cardboard, 2017 after Hurricane Harvey

Acrylic on scrap cardboard, 2017 after Hurricane Harvey

Acrylic on paper, 2014

Next, I switched to crayons. The Crayon Monsters were a lot more fun. I started with just a squiggly line and let be whatever they wanted to be. Sometimes that worked, sometimes it didn't, and I would turn them into what I wanted them to be. But, it felt like progress.

I played with melting the colors into the paper with an iron, and then layered more color on top. Hoping to do something more abstract, I created these next two, but again it only frustrated me.

Crayon on construction paper, September 2018

Crayon on construction paper with Haiku poem, December 2018

Then, I watched a Youtube video about Automatic Drawing Technique, and it inspired me to give it a try. You're supposed to doodle without thinking about it, and it's supposed to relax you to help you improve creatively.

Anticipation, crayon on construction paper, December 2018

I caught myself constantly asking, "what does it need now?" And then, trying to go back to not thinking about it. When I was done, the words that came to mind when I looked at it were "tight" and "tense". Not relaxed. "This is going to take a lot of practice", I thought to myself.

I decided to write about it in my journal. I wrote the words "tight" and "tense", and several synonyms that caught my eye in the thesaurus, but nothing came to me, so I started writing about the 2 very close friends that I've lost in death the past month. I found myself writing the words "what's next". Then it hit me. I'm trying to recover before the next storm.

I decided to name it "Anticipation", and wrote this poem about it:


Intrinsic self preservation
Is an undetected strain
Arduously tilling neglected guilt,
Hardened clay from past storms;
Desperately scattering seeds
That bloom magnificently.

What’s next?
Forced recovery
Before another storm hits.

This has been the beginning of what I call Doodle Therapy, and it seems like the more I do it, the easier it gets. Just about every night, I spend 20 or 30 minutes doodling in my journal, and then I write about it. It amazes me every time, that what looks like a bunch of scribbles actually has meaning to my subconscious. The fact that it has meaning seems to be quieting those adult expectations. I think I'm on the right track now.

Crayon Monsters

Diva Daphne has a cold.

Kaos is in a hurry.

Gilt is watching you.