It's like how you forget your ideas or dreams unless you write them down, or when you have a series of errands to run or things to buy at the shop and you know you'll forget something unless you make a list. It's the same. The same way I forget how to journal, and the right way to collect things, and the ease and flow of making notes and arranging collage pieces together or making observational drawings. I keep catching myself trying. Trying to do something or be some way that I know only really comes when you're not looking. It's like looking through a kaleidoscope, you can't expect the pieces to fall a certain way. You can't force the pattern. So why do I keep catching myself trying?
I have to keep reminding myself to release that grip, that attempt at control, that consideration that ends up stifling things. Life is about accidents, and art follows that path too. It's much better to flow with them. It reminds me of blood. Our always flowing, always moving life force. Mimicked by so many things. I'll try to remember that.
I painted a bit and printed out some webcam pictures to cut out and alter, and I remembered old projects and all the little experiments I've done with printed pictures and water. I remembered all the notes I made at art school, and the depth of the journals I kept for assessment. I think the journals were the best part of art school. The way they made me record everything. The way I had to come up with new things to try out all the time. They way I was forced to relinquish all preciousness to keep up with the work load and necessary experimentation. Now I can do it exactly the way I want to.
My pictures against the paint palette and jumbled around in front of painted colours and textures look so perfect. It's so simple, but I feel like it represents everything I want to be right now. Same with every blob of glitter and scribbly pen line. I am in every little piece.