Diary of an Art Journal


This is a new weekly blog series where I exit stage left—and my Art Journal who is a bit of a Diva takes center stage and confesses, in her own words, what the making of an Art Journal is "really all about." I think she just wants attention, but I've decided to humor her—and entertain you. So with no further adieu, here is the next installment of Diary of an Art Journal" written by the Diva herself. I hope you enjoy...

  her latest art journal pages

her latest art journal pages

Dear Diary,

I finally just up and asked her. I mean, come on, I am the Art Journal. I should know, shouldn't I? 

I had not a clue. 

She should have filled me in. Usually we have a certain...discourse, she and I, that  begins with the blank page.

"What should I do?" "I don't know, how about starting with "X"? "Okay, that felt right. What next?" "Hmmmm, I'm feeling "Y" today." "Ahh, then you absolutely must throw on a little "Z"..."

When we're sync like that, oh my gosh,  she's cruising on the ship of creative flow—for hours sometimes.

And I'm living it up poolside! Another glass of champagne, please!

  creative flow?

creative flow?

But oh no, not this time.

Two weeks she worked. Two weeks and two pages. And did she consult me?


Did she engage me in light banter even?


Did she ask me for my perceptions?  My visual wisdom and very special  joie de vivre?

No, no, no. 

SHE might have been cruising on the ship of creative flow. but me? I might as well have been left to sit in a small, cramped cabin in the middle of the ship (with NO windows!)

Meanwhile, she was madly painting, stamping, inking, marking...day after day after day (a little here, a little there...)

  (Apparently they allow dogs on the cruise ship of creative flow--and  Project Runway on the screen.)

(Apparently they allow dogs on the cruise ship of creative flow--and  Project Runway on the screen.)

I was not asked to join her. Those pages you see? They are entirely her own.

Finally, I couldn't take it any more.  (I can only paint my nails so many times!)

What in the heck ARE these pages about? I asked here. What do they mean?  And why are you acting so strange—so quiet and serene, yet dizzily active? I mean, look at these pages!

And then dear diary, Denise studied these pages and she said:

"They're not about anything, really."

Nothing? I was incredulous.

"I was just having fun. What do you think of those mandala circles?"


You mean pulleys? I asked. 


"Oh yes," she said, "I guess they are like pulleys. But now that I think about it, do pulleys really pull? Or do they push? Or do they spin?"

Hmphf. Such deep thoughts you're having, I said.

She must not have caught my sarcasm—because she went back and added the words!


And what about the other page? You obviously had SOME thoughts.

"Well," she said, "The whole page started with those loops. I really loved painting and smudging those loops!"


Loop-EE  is a good word here, I pointed out.

She did not seem to catch my drift.

"And the pods," she continued. "I just wanted to bring out those pods..."


"And the polka dots! I can't begin to tell you how much fun I had with those polka dots! I also had some random thoughts while I was drawing—just stuff that came into my head so I added those too." 

But what does it mean? I asked again. Now I was really getting frustrated.

"What? Those thoughts?" she said.


No! I said, the pages! What do they mean?

"Oh," she laughed, "like I said, nothing much." 

And then she ducked her head to add more who knows what...for no reason at all.