Because words are important, two things have changed.
This is an artist’s book, not a sketchbook, and it seems to be changing into a journal as well.
I’ve been going through the usual grindingly difficult re-identification of self that I seem to go through on a yearly basis. But this time I’m just not articulate enough to work it out with my friends.
Somehow between the telephone game of what I feel -> what I think -> what I say -> what they hear -> what they think, some pretty huge gaps and misunderstandings are breeding.
So I’m returning to a method of processing my feelings and thoughts that has worked for me in the past when my friends could not understand what I was saying.
When I’m upset, I let myself feel it without thinking, but also without fueling the emotion or dwelling in it. I let it sit there without actively trying to understand or evaluate it, and while I’m in that chaos I draw. I let that action and the surrender bring clarity to my confusion.
This process also involves journaling which I’ve used before as a visual element in my work. Fortunately my handwriting is illegible, occasionally even to myself. So I can include the text without much concern that anyone will ever decipher it.
I’m not certain this practice will take me anywhere useful, but at least I’m drawing and painting again.