“. . . as for your blog, please don’t give us another newbie blog on ‘how I’m working hard to get published’ with stories about your cat and your Aunt Sadie. Unless your Aunt Sadie is a famous actress or explorer, leave her out of it. In fact, get used to being a professional. Lose the personal Facebook page or blog.”
It wouldn’t have irritated me so much if I hadn’t just posted about my unfulfilled desire to complete some pieces for publication. “Another newbie blog,” she calls them–er, us—er, this. Five years of newbie-ness over here, complete with plenty of posts about my aunt and pets.
Sigh. What can I do? Development takes time.
My favorite local bookstore, “Sideshow Rare & Remarkable Books, Art & Curiosities” has a box of “found photos”. They are fifty cents each. Andy thinks it’s creepy that someone abandoned the pictures of their loved ones. Or maybe he hates the thought that some people don’t have loved ones. Or maybe he thinks I’m a scavenger. I assured him that I’ll designate someone to destroy all left-overs of his image when the time comes. The whole thing gives me lots of ideas for stories.
Yesterday we made a date of it (walk-book store-record store-Japanese food). I chose these:
I’m using them to salvage art journal pages gone awry. And lately, it feels like the all go awry.
I keep starting with fresh pages — figuring that if I repeatedly turn nothing into something, I’ll gain self-confidence. Plus, it’s playing — which is healthy, right?
But even when I break out the colors, the negative voices stay loud.
It’s so ugly. Your parents sent you to college so you could become good at something, so you could earn a living. Not to waste time. Other people were trained to make art. Look at you — finger painting alone in a home where someone else pays the rent.
I’m determined to ignore the voices and persist. Surely there’s room for creativity amid all the other things a responsible adult does. No. Scratch that. Surely creativity is one of the most important things a responsible person can ever do. See me waver? It’s like the muddy blue and red.
Every night in the last week, I kept at the ugly pages. I called it Project Salvage.
I used ink and pencil.
And today I added the found photos. It might not be completely done, but it’s getting there.