Diary of an Art Journal


This is a new weekly blog series whereby I exit stage left—and my Art Journal who is a bit of a Diva takes center stage and tells people, 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...


Dear Diary...

This week Denise said she was thinking about how going through life is a lot like how a snake sheds skin. One molting season after another...

I said, Darling, you can't be serious. That sounds absolutely revolting.


"But no," she said, "Molting is a good thing for snakes—and, metaphorically, for us. Look it up while I paint."

Hmphf. I said, I am entirely too busy to do research...But then I couldn't move anyway. Her first layers threw me into complete paralysis.

Shock and horror! Have you seen anything so ugly?


"Shut up,' she said, "It's my process."

What is that, may I ask? Throw me a bunch of 'bleck' and see what sticks?

"Kind of," she said, happily painting and marking.  

If I was the Art Journaler, even my under garments would be beautiful. But her?

Bleck and more bleck.


Finally, when she came back to me later she came to her senses—or okay, maybe it was all planned...I guess the bleck could look like snake skin...once it turned into a snake.


Cool grey background to offset the bolder colors. And the molten skin—nice touch.

"The older I get the more I realize," she wrote, "that we continuously shed previous layers of ourselves..."Sloughing off old habits of mind and emerging more of our Bright Selves."


Did you look up "molting," she asked me when she was done?

I admitted that I did not. I was still recovering from the near disaster. So she explained...

A snake sheds its skin because it outgrows it. The outer layer of skin simply gets too small—and so it rubs against hard things—and relies on a lot of moisture—to finally leave the old skin behind for its next season of living. 

"And I feel," she added, "That our human lives are a lot like that. We're always changing and growing, and if we're lucky—"


We get a whole new wardrobe! I said.

You would make this a fashion statement, she said.