the "bubble-headed woman"
Written by Lisa Lawler for Soul Spackle's Summer of Self-Love.
Not so long ago, I made my first foray into the world of art journaling. My preferred means of self-expression is the written word, not images, paint, shape or texture, but I had lost the desire to write and still needed a creative outlet in my life. So when my inner voice whispered "Create without words", I signed up for 21 Secrets, an online art journaling learning space.
One particular art journaling exercise I worked on was a collage piece. I had to find an image of a person in a magazine, cut it out and place it on a background of coloured paper and fabric. Then I had to paint over the image.
I did not study art at school, and my only experience with anything related to paint and drawing was a six month art course in my late twenties, so I was a little anxious about what I would produce.
Not so long ago, I made my first foray into the world of art journaling. My preferred means of self-expression is the written word, not images, paint, shape or texture, but I had lost the desire to write and still needed a creative outlet in my life. So when my inner voice whispered "Create without words", I signed up for 21 Secrets, an online art journaling learning space.
One particular art journaling exercise I worked on was a collage piece. I had to find an image of a person in a magazine, cut it out and place it on a background of coloured paper and fabric. Then I had to paint over the image.
I did not study art at school, and my only experience with anything related to paint and drawing was a six month art course in my late twenties, so I was a little anxious about what I would produce.
My first challenge was the paint. I didn't have any flesh-toned acrylic paint so I watched a couple of YouTube tutorials and, with great trepidation, I mixed up some paint and very gingerly brushed it over the image.
My first mistake was putting the paintbrush into water to thin down the paint. Glossy magazine paper does not like water. The paper wrinkled and feelings of panic set in as the woman (my image) developed what I called a "bubble forehead".
In an effort to cover up the mistake and set it to rights, I put the paint on in thick layers – and then had to re-mix more as I ran out.
The feelings of panic grew as the second batch of flesh-toned paint didn't match the first batch, and the layers of paint on the woman's face increased in direct proportion to the panic and attempts at correction.
I will not describe the alarm I felt when I tried to add shading to the face.
By the time I ran out of energy trying to fix everything that was going wrong, my woman had a bubble forehead and an opaque layer of multicoloured paint so thick it was practically an embossed area on the page. I could no longer see her features well enough to give her a nose.
My worst fears had materialised. I had ruined my page completely and there was no way to correct it.
I blogged about my experience with the ruined page. I decided to explore the horrible feelings this mistake had unleashed inside me. Looking at the page showed me just how much I hated making mistakes. And why was that? Why did I feel so depressed?
I thought about my past mistakes. Growing up, mistakes were not valued. Mistakes were punished; mistakes were criticised and ridiculed; mistakes got zero marks; mistakes were something not to talk about or share for fear of losing face with peers; mistakes were laughed at; mistakes were things you were warned about and told never to commit; mistakes were used as proof that I wasn't good enough.
I finished the post by writing that I had no idea how to heal this dreadful sense of failure but that perhaps recognising it was enough for the time being.
I received a lot of support from my fellow art journallers. One of them knew exactly how I felt and helped me to see something important about myself.
I thought that making mistakes showed I wasn't perfect, and if I wasn't perfect than how could anyone love me?
But the 21 Secrets community was very supportive and this is a summary of the advice they gave me and what I took from their words:
These words re-shaped my perception and helped me to shift my energy into a higher gear.
From now on, I'm determined to run with my 'mistakes' and see where they take me. Instead of trying to correct mistakes, I'm going to give myself permission to have some fun, to cut loose, and to leave rational, logical, limiting thought behind. I'm going to respond to the unexpected development and blessing in a creative and eager way, and tune into my intuition and feelings. I'm going to listen to my inner voice, the same one, incidentally, that whispered "Create without words". I'm going to wander off the beaten track and explore the landscape I hadn't planned on seeing. It won't be easy at first, but they say practice makes perfect.
As for my art journal page, I left my woman's face exactly as it was. Because after reading everyone's advice, I fell in love with her and I lost interest in 'perfect'. She was better than 'perfect' - she was Different.
And now, every time I look at the page, she brings a smile to my face.
My first mistake was putting the paintbrush into water to thin down the paint. Glossy magazine paper does not like water. The paper wrinkled and feelings of panic set in as the woman (my image) developed what I called a "bubble forehead".
In an effort to cover up the mistake and set it to rights, I put the paint on in thick layers – and then had to re-mix more as I ran out.
The feelings of panic grew as the second batch of flesh-toned paint didn't match the first batch, and the layers of paint on the woman's face increased in direct proportion to the panic and attempts at correction.
I will not describe the alarm I felt when I tried to add shading to the face.
By the time I ran out of energy trying to fix everything that was going wrong, my woman had a bubble forehead and an opaque layer of multicoloured paint so thick it was practically an embossed area on the page. I could no longer see her features well enough to give her a nose.
My worst fears had materialised. I had ruined my page completely and there was no way to correct it.
I blogged about my experience with the ruined page. I decided to explore the horrible feelings this mistake had unleashed inside me. Looking at the page showed me just how much I hated making mistakes. And why was that? Why did I feel so depressed?
I thought about my past mistakes. Growing up, mistakes were not valued. Mistakes were punished; mistakes were criticised and ridiculed; mistakes got zero marks; mistakes were something not to talk about or share for fear of losing face with peers; mistakes were laughed at; mistakes were things you were warned about and told never to commit; mistakes were used as proof that I wasn't good enough.
I finished the post by writing that I had no idea how to heal this dreadful sense of failure but that perhaps recognising it was enough for the time being.
I received a lot of support from my fellow art journallers. One of them knew exactly how I felt and helped me to see something important about myself.
I thought that making mistakes showed I wasn't perfect, and if I wasn't perfect than how could anyone love me?
But the 21 Secrets community was very supportive and this is a summary of the advice they gave me and what I took from their words:
- Mistakes are Life's way of inviting us to play and to allow ourselves to flow wherever that playing takes us;
- Mistakes are windows of opportunity;
- Mistakes are Spirit's way of showing us a new direction, or a new path, or a new perspective;
- Mistakes make us different;
- Mistakes make us unique;
- Mistakes make us beautiful;
- Mistakes are blessings that require us to rely on our intuition;
- Mistakes offer us the opportunity to move outside our comfort zones;
- Mistakes help us to find our voices;
- Mistakes make us creative – they make us CREATORS.
These words re-shaped my perception and helped me to shift my energy into a higher gear.
From now on, I'm determined to run with my 'mistakes' and see where they take me. Instead of trying to correct mistakes, I'm going to give myself permission to have some fun, to cut loose, and to leave rational, logical, limiting thought behind. I'm going to respond to the unexpected development and blessing in a creative and eager way, and tune into my intuition and feelings. I'm going to listen to my inner voice, the same one, incidentally, that whispered "Create without words". I'm going to wander off the beaten track and explore the landscape I hadn't planned on seeing. It won't be easy at first, but they say practice makes perfect.
As for my art journal page, I left my woman's face exactly as it was. Because after reading everyone's advice, I fell in love with her and I lost interest in 'perfect'. She was better than 'perfect' - she was Different.
And now, every time I look at the page, she brings a smile to my face.
Lisa Lawler lives in Western Australia with her husband and son and loves books to distraction. She reads and writes regularly: when challenged to describe herself without using labels, she came up with "words on a page and ideas and scribbles and inky fingers and a messy work surface".
She has written several fantasy short stories, a couple of novellas featuring ghosts and is in the process of un-stalling a stalled novel.
She believes our thoughts create our reality, that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and that what we do is not as important as who we are while we are doing it.
She has written several fantasy short stories, a couple of novellas featuring ghosts and is in the process of un-stalling a stalled novel.
She believes our thoughts create our reality, that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and that what we do is not as important as who we are while we are doing it.
