Flow 123: The end of the Flow sketchbook.
Flow 122: My mother came out to visit, and we both worked on our sketchbooks. Quite unexpectedly, I finished mine, with a flourish on the last page...'the end'.When you begin drawing in an old hardcover, you think that you can never fill all the pages. Yet sketching is so addictive that many days you 'chain sketch', one after the other, content to fill pages. Like writing in a journal, it keeps your hand and mind moving. It brings the artist out to play every day, a reminder that the ideas are there, just beneath everyday consciousness, waiting to be brought out and toyed with in a not-to-serious way.
Flow 121: Another tough round of chemo. Although I am not sick today, I am so tired it is almost impossible to move. I sit quietly, sketching a gentle landscape where I can rest. |
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But this is all part of the idea of simple gifts; the appreciation of small things around us, and the noting of them. Sometimes the bird sings all day, but often we have only a glimpse and a brief phrase to celebrate the moment.
Flow 113: Alone for the weekend, I make my plans to work on the painting in the studio, get a few pages done in the Flow sketchbook. But I am distracted by the book I am reading, and the symphony I am listening to. Perhaps another cup of coffee first... 
Flow 112: As I near the end of the Flow sketchbook, I am more and more intrigued by the idea of constant scribbling. The idea is, you have a sturdy tome that you can carry with you and the only tool you need is a pen. You can doodle away while talking on the phone, watching a movie, or waiting for dinner to cook. I intend to doodle by the campfire and on the beach when we are camping this summer.
Flow 111: After having minor surgery to install the chemo port, I am looking forward to a bit more freedom during treatment; no lines hanging out of my arm, and no fuss going in the hot tub or shower. The first chemo treatment looms ahead of me, and I gather my resources, clutching my independence to me like a flower.
Flow 110: A bestiary (a collection of mythical creatures) is an essential for the compulsive scribbler. Although plants and symbols can express ideas very well, and little humanoids represent us nicely, there is nothing like a fantastic creature to signify our soulful musings and perturbations. My favorite creatures are birds, but I am also fond of lizards, fish and insects. I like creatures that start out as one thing, and turn into something else.How often, when we see an animal or bird or insect, do we project a little of ourselves into it? We feel the flight, the lovely curl, the splendid iridescence. It is the other part of us, the flutter of our little spirit.
Flow 109: An entire book of these, like ‘A Book of Complaints’, would be a splendid compendium of fill variations and patterns, as well as experimental images.
Flow 108: So it was not important that the character looked much like me, or was wearing what I was wearing, or even that the leaves are an accurate depiction. It is the bodily expression of the character that reflects that wonderful, deep breathing, exhilarating moment. It is more of an internal scene than an external one.
Flow 107: The sky lights upAnd the scent of new leaves astonishes me
A peaceful silence descends
Leaf bursts
And swirls suspended
Perfect
Perfect
The breath of all such moments
Flow 106: ...the liberation (of working with markers on a printed page) extends to your artistic inner child. You want to scribble silly shapes and, yes, colour them in with incongruous hues. It is impossible to be serious, and in the process you begin to access the very nexus of ar and inspiration...that primitive delight in mysterious shoes and forms. 
Flow 105: Not everyone finds my chemo hair loss that amusing, but I find myself quite entertained over my constantly changing 'do. Maybe it's because I am so thrilled to have eyebrows and eyelashes again, I don't care that much about the rest.
Flow 104: Twining Creatures
Flow 103: Blooms, irresistible, make us pause. Colours and shapes seize us, twisting into enveloping fragrance. We collect them in our memories, where they curl, waiting to surprise us on a dull day.
Flow 102: Collage always opens up possibilities for fragmentation and decay, as torn edges and holes become windows into the distance or even, as design suggested, little hiding places. Many mediums and materials can be used. The accidental and the precise are combined by drawing or painting on or around the collaged shapes.A beautiful piece of cloth, a discarded sketch and our prized photos all become elements in a new dimension of art.
Flow 101: Fish and waves.
Flow 100: After reaching page number 100 in my Flow sketchbook (markers on an old novel), I have only a few more pages to finish, and the cover to decorate. I will then return to my Prisma colour book. 
Flow 99: Phoenix.
Flow 98: There is something in the single session, one layer work that retains the original idea, the first gesture. And these small works can be produced as quickly as the ideas come, sometimes many in a day. With a sketchbook at hand, an idea need never be lost.
Flow 97: Quite often, when I am trying to resolve an idea in my mind, whether in writing or painting, I pick up my marker sketchbook (Flow) and begin drawing shapes with a large black marker. As I outline them, and feel the shapes, I begin letting other lines fly off the vectors of the main shapes, and these in turn are joined with other shapes and rounded off. The resulting pattern offers a complex base to decorate as I please.
Flow 96: My preference for working in the Flow marker book, and in Noteshelf on the iPad, arises from my love of books. Actually drawing in a book (novel) rather than the standard sketchbook encourages continuous scribbling, and threads of ideas. Picking up the book is like returning to an old friend, and the satisfaction of filling the pages never diminishes. There is also the childish pleasure of drawing on top of the existing text and pictures.
Flow 95: Noah drawing in his marker book.
Flow 94: Playful creatures.
Flow 93: It is the ordinary things that make a difference in our lives. We long most for our routines; playing and laughing, bright colours and warmth. Spending time with the people we care for. Talking, listening. A few words can change everything.
Flow 92: Lots of play today...the mind and body heal.
Flow 91: I have been thinking of the word 'unburdening'. We carry around so much in our lives; possessions, people, memories. When we dig through it all, it is astonishing how little of it is truly meaningful or necessary. We really only need a few things to remind us of all we have been and all we have love...a photo here and there, a few lines. Our personal time capsules can be very small, and still sum up our lives.
Flow 90: There is nothing that happens to us in our lives that cannot be converted to silver or gold. We all have golden moments to keep us looking forward or looking back fondly. These moments shine so brightly they can be distracting. What about all the negative things...bad experiences and painful moments? Are they not silver, part of our night side, like the moon? These are our learning experiences, the rod by which we measure the brightness of the gold, and our development as humans.
Flow 89: 
Flow 88: I imagine a great bird rising joyously, created in a moment of sparkling crystals and gestural movement, and then vanishing in the sun.
Flow 87: Lately I have been scratching white lines in my paintings, and laying contrasting lines of colour next to each other, with the same flickering effect. The patterns change before my eyes, coming forward one moment, receding the next. Yet the technique is flat graphic, every line and area laid out side by side.
Flow 86: I have often commented that I could draw or paint the same subject every day from observation, and each picture would be different. Aside from the changing light, shadow and colour, my own perception of the things I see every day changes radically according to my mood, what I have learned in the meantime, or the role my surroundings play in my life that day.
Flow 85: While I was creating the Paleozoic Series, I wrote a great deal about accumulations, especially mental burdens that we seem determined to carry around for years, adding to the pile as we go. But of course the other type of accumulation...the mountain of acquisitions we surround ourselves with, is even heavier and certainly as difficult to dispose of.
Flow 84: We want to talk our way through an idea, but we want to present it as more than text...we want it to take the shape of our idea, retaining words as text, but expanding to give dimension and completion to a concept. And so we shape words, and embellish them. We stretch them, colour them and repeat them, until a word picture forms...a picture that speaks to us.
Flow 83: Play all day. Eat what you want. Be wanton and eat off the good china. Wear silk pyjamas and drink mocha coffee all day. Turn the music up really loud. Watch movies all night. Knit a circus tent. Paint with your fingers. And always have lots of chocolate on hand.Laugh a lot. Enjoy the ride.
Flow 82: Happiness is an elusive state of being. I am not sure that we are conscious of it as much as we should be. That is, it is quite easy to pass an entire day or days without actually making note of our moments of happiness. I have similarly mentioned the simple gifts that we should find remarkable in each day...but happiness is not as easy to pinpoint.
Flow 81: We are really at our best as artists when our lives are boring and routine. My attempts to re-establish my boring life have been more or less successful, but slow. So slow is my artistic recovery, that my cancer relapses have overtaken my artistic gains several times. My little artist, after being so rudely shoved back once too often, is in a fighting mood. 'Leave me alone!'
Flow 80: There is a meditative quality to an illuminated page. The intricate patterns and vibrant colors soothe and delight, and remind us of the deep connection between images and words. The hours spent on these pages were hours of pure devotion and love of the craft. The resulting books were treasured and marvelled over. These books continue to be the companions of quiet hours.
Flow 79: ...even the most dreadful and chaotic days have their moments of beauty and inspiration. And there is the key word...'moments'. If we consider the large view of our day, a generalized view, we are overwhelmed by big events, especially negative ones. It was a bad day or a good day, based on the most significant events. And those events...work, illness, conflicts...can colour our perception of life.
Flow 78: Imagine if we could actually turn back time even one hour, how chaotic the world would be. Time would take on the aspect of a page in a word processor, written by a blocked author erasing and rewriting, unable to move to the next page. Imagine an artist, going back and correcting the same work, over and over. Or redoing the same bit because it was so enjoyable, so perfect.
Flow 77: The high winds have continued. The wind comes on in great rushes, booming under the cantilever of the house. Upstairs in the studio, the windows tremble, and the tops of the trees outside lash about in a frenzy. Some of the trees in the lot across the road fell down, but nothing was damaged. I am happy to cocoon myself at home, painting and reading. When I can keep awake, that is. My post-chemo fatigue has lifted somewhat, but I am still sleeping late and dragging a bit. If only my upcoming scans are clear, and I can continue to mend. If only I can have my life back for a while.
Flow 76: I often ask myself whether, in my enthusiasm for pattern and design, I am frequently obfuscating the original intent or message in a work of art. I suspect that sometimes there is no real message, and I am simply filling in space with lovely doodles, just for the sake of playing with line and colour. I guess I am saying that there is a huge difference between contrived art and inspired art.
Flow 75: Our senses contribute so much to our experience of the world. This is obvious when you think about it, but the points, most of the time we don't think about it, until we lose one of our senses, or pare temporarily deprived.
Flow 74: Some of the best ideas come out of a long period of enforced inertia. As I waken from the illness and fatigue of chemo, I find myself more engaged and interested in ideas. I am reading and writing more. The house seems too crowded, like my paintings, and I wonder how I have accumulated so much. There is a sudden urgent desire in me for simplicity.
Flow 73: I had not been feeling well, the cumulative results of chemotherapy, but my last treatment is next week, and I dare to hope that in a couple of weeks I will be feeling more normal.
Flow 72: As my sixtieth birthday approaches, I have been thinking about the aging process. As our bodies age, gentle signals are sent to our brains. We are encouraged to begin letting go, not of life, but of excess baggage and unnecessary ambitions. We are free to explore this new age, this new skin. We can look ahead with confidence and a sense of humour. We are still curious, still learning.
Flow 71: The other day I made a list of all the things in one day that are special to me. This was done with a view to setting up the arc for my new illustrated story. What surprised me was, first, the length of the list...all special things that happen in one day. And secondly, I was astonished at the simplicity of each item, all very small things, that did not require any special effort or resources. To be an artist, you have to give up some of the things that others devote so much time to. Art is truly long.
Flow 70: This afternoon I am in the screen house, listening to music, reading, writing and drawing...all on this clever device. In my painted book, I drew a picture of myself, drawing myself on the iPad.
Flow 69: I don't feel creative here, just lazy.
Flow 68: Simple things are on my mind. Sitting on the deck, drinking coffee from my favourite cup, listening to the wind in the trees. Our rustic setting suits the artistic mind. Away from the noises and distractions of town my thoughts are free to wander and seek new paths. While I write, the leaves rustle and their perfume reaches me. The chimes move softly, tone on tone. The lake is etched with wind patterns.
Flow 67: It is that aloofness that I have found so remarkable in my own life. Various forms of the idea and the word ‘aloof’ appear throughout my journals. To be a life artist, time and people must be set aside. A great emptiness of space and thought must be created, to make time and room for inspiration and creation. An artist must be selfish.
Flow 66: Doodling while talking with the girls at the Arts Circle. The bird appeared while my mind was elsewhere.
Flow 65: After an interview with the oncologist, who said the minor pains I was experiencing might be the chemo killing the cancer, I drew this little creature with its liver and lungs on overdrive.
Flow 64: The last couple of sketches, I have been trying out word balloons for my characters.
Flow 63: I had no intention of adding a fish to my drawing today. It just appeared. It is not that fish are not interesting. As soon as you begin thinking about fish, they become a pattern (provided you are not hungry). They become fluid teardrop shapes, curls and long arrows. Their scales glisten in rainbows of iridescence. Scales become emerging feather patterns, and fins become wings. Is that not the ocean of life?
Flow 62: More chemotherapy misery. It is impossible to do anything but roll up in a ball part of the time, and read around a headache the rest of the time. I drag my marker book out and draw more green, more shades of sickly green. Not even a creature can be found in it.
Flow 61: Flow does not always come directly to you...you have to reach out and accept it.
Flow 60: After being violently ill this week from my first chemotherapy treatment, I told my friend Deb that I was going to draw green people. This is how it feels to be on chemo. Yes, that’s two heads and a lot of spiralling stuff.
Flow 59: Many people are helping me right now. Many hands comfort and heal. Grace.
Flow 58: There is a certain rhythm that signifies the approach of inspiration. Random doodles and idle words begin to form patterns. The patterns recombine to form concepts, and a new theme is born. For the next unpredictable while your mind, your drawings and your journals are overflowing with ideas.
Flow 57: My brain teems with organic and geometric shapes that beg to be strung together like beads. Walking outside, looking for new flowers in the garden, I am struck by the lovely bits of last year’s leaves and plants, tissue paper thin, their skeletons forming the most delicate lace. The new growth, slyly uncurling from beneath, points to the sky.
Flow 56: My days have been filled once again with procedures, consultations and scheduling for chemo. I offset this alien activity with more gentle thoughts…drawing a growth shape and letting words flow around it. The words are not important, only the continuous stream of thought and pattern. My painted book is filling rapidly.
Flow 55: There is something cathartic about writing and writing again on top of it. It is not scribbling, because it contains words...but the layering turns them into a pattern.
Flow 54: Discussion, feedback and collaboration adds new material for us to nibble at, new threads to be knit together into our various fabrics. This process, of first explaining an idea to another, then discussing it, then extrapolating, is the strength of complex works such as series, which can easily become repetitive or stalled.
Flow 53: Why did the red flower catch your eye amid myriad red flowers, or why did it bloom in your imagination? Why do you keep coming back to it? There is usually an association linked with such ideas, a similar form or colour, a moment in your history, something that connects one or your mental puzzles with an actual symbol.
Flow 52: Sometimes a glow happens, a moment of stillness and understanding. I draw it, trying to understand. I draw on it, anticipating the next moment. I draw the ideas to me, keeping still. I draw my breath.
Flow 51: I wrote the word entropy in one of my drawings today. It is a concept that appears from time to time in my work, the idea of gradual decline or decay, the random loss of bits, the tendency toward fragmentation. I have always believed that we must continue building at the forward edge of our lives, learning and adding on to compensate for the inevitable losses and discards that happen along the way.
Flow 50: After a visit with the oncologist, where I learned my cancer has returned: “I need chocolate,” I told Dave. “Lots of it.” At home I drew a green monster. He was supposed to look vicious and angry, but I suppose after eating so much chocolate, he is bound to be sleepy and a bit knotted up.
Flow 49: For my sketch in the printed book, I blocked in the shapes with black marker, but tried a gel pen for the background. I simply wrote whatever came to mind, allowing the phrases to overlap and form a stream of script. It was a gentle, meditative process, reminding me of my old Sgraffito works, where I often used writing as shading or highlighting fill.
Flow 48: For the past few months, I have been using the word 'Flow' with some frequency. To me, it represents the natural progression of my art and thinking. There is a great flow of information around us, not only from the way we live, but from the ways of the universe. Our very lifeblood is attuned to it, as we find themes and patterns and learn to name the ideas that come to us. Knowledge is acquired slowly, drop by drop, through intense work and thinking. Our blood sings with the universal flow. Art is born.
Flow 47: The constraints imposed by working on pages of text continue to fascinate me. The novel I am currently defacing has varying layouts of blocked text, large spaces and dense paragraphs, so that each page already has its own structure.Sometimes I simply colour in these blocks, to see what their silhouette looks like. I join them with webs and loops and then fill them in with writing and patterns.
Today’s sketch has the look of a large insect perched on its own monument of script. The negative white spaces are as pleasing as the black shapes.
Flow 46: And we have hope, a daily wellspring of it. I draw it in my sketchbook with bright colours and patterns from my youth.
Flow 45: ...the key to all Art; we must look past the obstacles and through the obvious to find real inspiration. We must ignore the routine distractions that derail everyone else, and focus on the inner spark, the outer revelations.
Flow 44: Camouflage cat and mouse. Whenever I draw my cat, I think of my friend Deb, whose cat characters are unforgettable.
Flow 43: Memories...old books and stories. Golden.
Flow 42: To really make progress, to get ahead, learn or do something new, or even to make room for a dream goal or new idea, we must dig even deeper and push even harder. Instead of cruising along efficiently, we have to plunge further to find extra energy and time, and reserves of will. We must be determined to go that step further, that hour longer. The reward is enlightenment and discovery.
Flow 41: The process of art and the process of living are much the same. Every morning we get up, and our routine lies before us. We have our regular chores, and we check our calendars for appointments and tasks. We go to our workplace. We get out our tools and work. We see people or talk on the phone. We take time out to eat and play. We are interrupted frequently and sometimes we daydream. We spend time with our family, the dog, the television and computer. The days spin by, a whirlwind of activity. It seems as if we never stop. And we ask ourselves, where did the day go? We tell ourselves we could not possibly do more.
Flow 40: Sometimes you have to lose yourself in your patterns, or turn everything and everyone into little creatures you can make swim away. Very prettily.
Flow 39: Perhaps the most important policy I have tried to hold to in my life has been to follow the paths or open the doors that present themselves to me. For an artist, this means pausing to note ideas and inspirations, going where others have not gone (or hesitated to go), and taking chances instead of always staying on the ‘safe’ path regarding my work.
Flow 38: My grandson Noah visited today. He is always interested in my art projects, and wanted to try a painted book. He made a wonderful colourful page, and I drew this cartoon of him at work. Whenever he visits, Noah walks around the house, looking at my paintings, very serious. “I think I can make something like that,” he says. And so he can.
Art is mostly something we know we can do. The rest is actually doing it.
Flow 37: Tonight the trees seem to glow in the still-wintry landscape, the trunks catching the light from the kitchen window. It is very still outside. The snow falls straight down, slow and dainty, each flake spinning against the indigo sky.Out in the woods across the lake, the wolves begin to howl.
In my sketch, I make trees with silvery leaves, like a cold spring night. It is not often that I draw landscapes any more, though elements appear in my designs and compositions.
Flow 36: Off and on lately I have been thinking about handwriting, probably because I have recommenced writing by hand in a journal. A page filling with words, full of loops and crosses and dots, is a wonderful pattern. It has a message, but it also fills a space with its designs. On some of my paintings, I write backwards and upside down. It is not especially the message itself that is important, but rather the codes and symbols the letters make. To me they represent the infinite chatter in our minds, the noises of the world at work around us, and the more mysterious patterns of light and silence of the universe.
Flow 35: Growth shapes I think illustrate best our way of thinking. An idea begins from a node, a focussed thought that is sparked by an event, an image, or another thought. It takes off on a path, straight or curved, and as it travels, the idea throws off its own sparks, which begin another path or branch. Some of these auxiliary branches stop after a short run, but others begin to branch off at intervals as they go. It is the process of correlation, building on the initial idea. The main or original branch is returned to frequently, reinforcing it, to keep the entire concept together.
Flow 34: I did not write much this week…except on my sketch blog…but I did some new sketches and experimenting with the Harmony sketch tool. Using this elegant program is quick and playful…for example, even after my tiring trip to Timmins yesterday, I still had the time and energy to make a sketch. It would make a good morning exercise, along with my writes.
Flow 33: Communication occurs in our lives on so many different levels. It is so complex and nuanced, it is a wonder any of us are able to have a meeting of minds. Of all its forms, though, I think communication without words…through gestures or music or visual art…is the most powerful. Images are created by gestures, and by expressions…most of us associate a certain expression of body movement with individuals. So strong is this identity that we often miss subtle changes, or are shocked to see someone ‘not looking like themselves’ in photos. The very life in us creates our personality, and the constant change/movement is a flowing message of our state of being.
Flow 32: While making this sketch I was thinking of wallpaper. I always tended to look at the negative shapes in wallpaper, trying to see each repeating motif differently, sometimes as fill for a larger shape, sometimes as a shape to be filled.
Flow 31: One of my oft-repeated motifs is flowers. Their varieties, colours and the patterns of their growth completely absorbs me, and sometimes they almost become characters in my art. Even in their natural state they form designs, like icons. There is something incongruous but delightful about a delicate blossom in the harsh tangle of the forests and fields. Flowers surprise us by blooming in the harshest conditions, and appearing suddenly out of the darkness.A close inspection of their petals reveals a fractal world of dividing veins, rivers of life and renewal.
Flow 30: Some days seem to be full of voices and talk. The day begins with a talk to myself in my journal, my little inner voice chattering away, jumping from one idea to the next, whether bubbling happily or grumbling, almost always passionate.Voices--human, musical, creature--continue all day.
Finally, when I go to bed, I lie with eyes closed for a while and let my inner voice tell me a story while little pictures squiggle by on my eyelids. Then I fall asleep, and the only voices left are in my dreams.
Flow 29: It is the beginning and ending of the day that counts, the brackets of our daily routine. The beginning of a good morning is quiet, meditative, with coffee and good music. Your journal is open, with a pen that does not stain your fingers. A little space to fill with your thoughts, before your day begins. You have to start early, of course, when there is no chance of someone coming to the door, or the phone ringing.The final emptying is a sketch, the last image of the day, caught in pens or pencils. The pleasure of this last image is difficult to describe—an invitation to rest and dream.
Flow 28: Sunny days, almost spring-like, making me feel guilty for spending so much time in the house. I am feeling quite plump and sleepy, as if I have been in hibernation. When I do go out in the sun, I blink and squint, fighting the urge to dash back in my hole.There is not that much to feel guilty about, really. I am not required to accomplish anything in particular—I have no obligations any more. But now that I am (close to) healed, I feel the need for activity. I need to wake up.
Flow 27: In many ways, this type of sketching is more creative than more structured art. It is the first motion of the emptied mind, the communication of the unconscious, groping its way onto the page and speaking to you, uncensored. In a sketchbook, you can be as repetitive as you like, drawing the same shapes over and over, watching them evolve and lead you further into the subconscious, the well-spring of art.
Flow 26: Brilliant sunshine this morning. For moment I smile back at it, then the light stabs my eyes like a knitting needle, and I have to turn away. After my eyes stop stinging and watering, I notice that the sun has found its way into the depths of the kitchen, where it highlights every bit of dust and pet hair, as well as the crumbs on the kitchen table. Each crumb has a halo, and, if you look closely enough, it casts a little shadow. The kitchen window, too, is limned in brilliance, displaying a lacy pattern of splatters and paw marks. Instead of cleaning, I draw idly draw a flower.
Flow 25: My art is a grey area, as if I have turned a page, and feel that I must produce something more significant. But my brain rebels. It wants to cocoon, sleep without dream.A few sentences, stray ideas. A little sketch. A few minutes of creative play. These moments cling to each other, building on each other, until something significant emerges.
Flow 24: Times flies by, the days blurring past me, while I remain almost inert, dragging along the same worn paths, circling, almost breaking out, and then succumbing again. It is difficult to account for this low period, since I have healed well from surgery, and have reassumed many of my creative habits…music, morning writes, sketchbook and reading.Yet I remain unenthusiastic. I sleep a lot. I knit a lot—knitting up ‘the ravelled sleeve of care’? It may take longer to heal than I thought, or perhaps I am forever changed by my two-year struggle to stay alive.
Flow 23: A blustery morning, still Payne’s grey, with bundles of snowflakes swirling by the window like hornets. I am sleepy and disinclined to get ready to go to town. How much lovelier to be snowed-in here, with soft music…but this morning’s music is anything but soft. It is an oddly syncopated trio by Kirchner, which bumbles and buzzes as if it is trying to escape, perhaps to join the irate snow outside.
Flow 22: A cold morning, wishing spring would come. Big green leaves and grass, with words streaking through them like insects.
Flow 21: It is pointless to ignore the less poetic voices in my head—the whiner, the critic, the complainer, the hateful misanthrope—they are all there, clamouring to express themselves, along with the little artist. It is pointless to ignore my gushing repetitive joy at the gently falling snow and the greenish-gray landscape. Or my maudlin delight in the Chopin piece that is playing. All must come out, in my art and my writing.Writing longhand, and listening to Chopin, I feel more like my old self. There is strength and renewal in the familiar.
Flow 20: My inner artist child cries out for play and renewal. “Why shouldn’t I scribble on printed pages?” she asks. “What is there to stop me?” Maybe I will spend the next year just scribbling and doodling on top of all the pages I have gathered in the studio.There is no need for a plan or a story or a series. Just go. Keep drawing, then paint and write. Keep drawing, on and on, page after page. Let the patterns unfold, and the creatures emerge. Pour it all out, and take in the fresh emptiness of release. Forget about a plan, an audience. Allow a path to be revealed again.
Flow 19: Even though I work alone most of the time—as most artists do—I am constantly reminded of the importance of interaction with other creative people. My long-time collaboration and correspondence with desean has been a constant source of inspiration and encouragement. In fact, there have been times when only desean understood what I was trying to create. And there have been times when he helped me through set-backs and insecurity.Today I spent several hours with my groups, and came away physically tired but mentally invigorated. When we share work and ideas, sparks fly, creativity is ignited, and we go back to our personal work with renewed interest and imagination. Discussion always brings out new ideas, and seeing what others are working on reinforces our commitment to art and ourselves.
Flow 18: The three text blocks on the page interested me, since there was a large gap in between the bottom one and the top two. As soon as I joined them with a sort of webbing, I could see an aquatic landscape, with plant creatures waving in the swirling currents.
Flow 17: Quite a few of the paintings from the Raven Series paintings were done in an 'etched' style, with the lines and patterns scratched out, or using a negative shape painting method. This effect is achieved with the markers by blocking in a large area in black (in this case, the two text blocks on the page), and using the metallic markers to carve out shapes and apply fine lines.
Flow 16: I was in the mood to just draw, and was pleased and surprised with the effect of my patterns on top of the novel's text. The 'slub' lines formed by the text give the impression of cloth, and the picture appears to be sinking in, or emerging from it. The scans show a little more of the text than the actual drawings. I have thought of writing over an entire canvas, then drawing and painting on top of it. Writing, and even printed text, makes a very satisfying all-over pattern.
Flow 15: More fish, reflecting the wave shapes. I experimented a bit with the resistance of the metallic marker, which only let my black pen mark the bits of paper in between lines (on the sphere).
Flow 14: Medallions and flowers offer many possibilities, as they are easily adapted to any shape, and can be changed--both in shape and patterning--almost endlessly. Both shapes are natural and iconic, appearing almost everywhere, from the bottom of the sea to the heraldic shields of the middle ages, to the fabrics of modern times, and back out to the very patterns of the universe.
Flow 13: Although this character was supposed to be a creature, it has a human look, as big-eyed creatures often do, and the eye and nose area forms the familiar triangle of human symmetry. The mask-like patterning pleases me, as well as the reds and blacks, creative flash. As I continue working on the printed (novel) pages, I find the already-filled-with-print work area more and more liberating. Like drawing on newspaper or in a ruled notebook, the exercise is most casual and careless--and therefore intensely creative--because right from the beginning there is no master plan or lofty purpose for the drawing. It is simply creative play, partly destructive--because an entire novel is being defaced--but mostly inventive, because there is nothing to be lost in aimless doodling and scribbling.
Flow 12: Another creature, two ovals and a long curve. I love the way the text forms stripes and a background grid, making the creature appear transparent, fragile.
Flow 11: Last night I wrote big words on the novel page, and drew over and around them. They look like a coral reef, bristling with ideas and fanciful patterns. The squared, conglomerate appearance of these sketches reminds me somewhat of Aztec glyphs. They are sold-looking, and one can almost imagine building with them, constructing a wall of dense designs.
Flow 10: Filling in areas with patterns is one of my favourite drawing exercises. Even familiar patterns are reconfigured as they conform to different shapes and ideas. I began here with the word Flow in the upper right corner, and expanded, one module at a time, from there. One of my silver markers has a very fine point on one end, and the resulting lacy trails and swirls delighted me.
Flow 9: I believe I was very nearly asleep while I worked on this one. It had been a long day, and my mind and hand simply floated, like a leaf on a stream. This half-conscious state or zone often opens up the subconscious, revealing deeper meanings and primal feelings. It is flow, the giving in to the subconscious mind.
Flow 8: Lately the image of planting/harvesting flowers has associated itself in my mind with my recovery from cancer. A little 'carpe diem', certainly, since after life-threatening events we are inclined to appreciate every day. There is also a sense of starting over, as well, a feeling that a new path has opened. So many things seem unimportant, and single moments become clear as liquid particles dancing in front of you, inviting you to look again with the eyes of a child. This sense of renewal leaves you open to primal patterns and delights. You look, and feel awe again.
Flow 7: In this sketch, a great deal of text shows through, camouflaged cross-hatching and patterning. So many nights, I lie awake in bed, thinking of patterns and characters, drawing in my mind. Many ideas, too, come out of the quiet darkness, eyes closed or open, etching their way across my lids or the ceiling.
Flow 6: Some coloured markers are translucent, allowing the text on the page to show through. I like to leave the effect at times, as it becomes part of the pattern. Here the pattern on the green grass is created by text.
Flow 5: This page is done with markers on a full text page of the novel. I recall seeing artists sketch on newspapers, partly for economy, but also because the text forms an interesting background and the distraction that often leads to inspiration. Some artists allow words to show, but I usually find them unappealing, both in appearance and context. As in most of my work, I cover the page.The important part of the exercise is that you are recycling a book or booklet...now a sketchbook...and you feel quite free to just let your hand move and your mind idle. It is not part of a series or large work, or even an important work. When you turn the page, you can go somewhere else or start over. You discover things, in the flow of simply making shapes and designs that don't have to be anything. You lose yourself, and find new patterns, new techniques.
Flow 4: For some time I have been thinking of adding animals, or creatures of my own invention, to my art work. Most of the time, my sketches are too real. Inventing creatures is not as easy as you might imagine. While demonstrating to my art group how to use markers on a printed page, I drew a series of amorphous black lumps, secretly wondering what on earth I would make of them. But as I added shapes and patterns, an amusing character emerged, with a beak and paws.My habit of working late at night is evident here: I began with a black marker, but picked up the purple marker halfway through by mistake.
Flow 3: One of the interesting results of persistent doodling is that new variations of patterns constantly emerge. As well, using different mediums is fun, and often surprising. Here, a metallic gold marker lends a different look and feel to the design.
Flow 2: I sketch late at night, half asleep in my chair with a cup of tea. My husband, the dog and the cat are heaped up on the sofa, dozing in each others' arms. The television drones pointlessly, but I rarely lift my eyes to watch. I am immersed in lines, in dark and light spaces. Drawing with markers is much like working with ink, though I am not as concerned with the white areas, since I have opaque metallic markers that work on black, making it easy to retrieve light areas or add detail. This is the last pattern of the day.
Flow 1: For the past year I have been experimenting with different media on various books and booklets. This is the first time I have not primed or painted the pages before drawing on them. I chose a discarded hardcover novel in good condition and a collection of opaque markers, and decided on a theme of graphic patterns, using positive and negative drawing techniques.In this image, the black marker covers the title page lettering, and the pattern is drawn with silver marker.
