Cooking is one of the few creative activities that I engage in pretty much everyday. However, I realized recently that somewhere along the line I stopped giving cooking the respect it deserves.

I have always enjoyed cooking but I guess my children—over time—with their penchant for the bland and the familiar, ate away at ( )the amount of creativity that I generally poured into daily meals. I remember my younger son exclaiming that a quickie “Sloppy Joe” dinner was “The best meal you’ve ever made, Mom!” That’s okay. As a busy mom, I’d take any compliment I could get.

But for years now, it’s ordinarily just my husband and myself and since we’re both adventurous eaters, I have free reign over what to cook. I’m not much of a planner. I work until my tummy tells me it’s time to eat, go downstairs, think about what I’m hungry for, see what’s available— sometimes pulling out three times as much as I’ll use—and start cooking. I rarely use a recipe for evening meals. The results are usually good and often delicious (my rule of thumb is Would I be happy if I’d paid for this at a restaurant? and often I can answer “Yes!” to that question)

However, I don’t usually think of it as part of my creative day.

Recently, I had a different kind of cooking that needed to be done. We—like many people this time of year—have a surplus of zucchini from our little garden. I don’t even particularly LIKE zucchini so I knew that I needed some creative ways of using up these mass quantities. I looked on the internet for zucchini breads and ran across a beautiful cooking blog called 101 Cookbooks by Heidi Swanson. There, I found a recipe for a zucchini bread with an ‘Indian’ twist. This looked perfect as I was having my book club over that weekend. Our book club does a pot luck dinner with food suggested by the book we’ve read and this time it was Indian.

I set to work making this and what I ended up with was not only a yummy dessert and a little less zucchini to deal with but also a renewed appreciation for cooking as both a creative outlet and catalyst.

Right from the start this zucchini bread recipe offered me two things: 1) the opportunity to bake—which I love but don’t allow myself the time to do and 2) a recipe to follow. Nothing earth-shattering there, but it dawned on me as I got into it that following a recipe was allowing me a mental escape. Follow the directions. Do this, then do this, then do that.

Relaxation was the first thing I noticed. I scooped and measured the dry ingredients, enjoying the gentle mess of flour as it sifted across the counter. I used my food processor with childlike glee to shred that huge zucchini in the photo in a just few seconds.

Then I noticed that the relaxation was overlaid with something else: stimulation. My sense of smell became activated in a major way by the ingredients. Lemon zest! Wow, what a virtual explosion of associations: summer and heat and childhood and so many others—all good! Then there were the more familiar but homey smells of pecans (being from Texas where pecans grow, I used them instead of walnuts), cinnamon and vanilla. My senses were further delighted by surprising ingredients such as crystallized ginger and curry powder. What yummy smells and sooo delicious.

By the time I popped the two pans in the oven, I was as relaxed, happy and energized as if I’d had a late-afternoon walk on the beach or a great yoga class. I felt raring to go! Ready to take on more baking (I used up more, though not all, of the zucchini on Heidi’s gorgeous chocolate zucchini cupcakes! which we are still enjoying around here) and more of anything creative I could get my hands on.

I would have come upstairs and written this post right then if I hadn’t had Book Club coming the next night!

What I realized—remembered—is that cooking, when we can relax into it involves the senses as few other activities do. Not only smell and—of course, taste—but touch and sometimes even hearing. And it’s one of those activities such as walking or riding a bike, driving or taking a shower that can put us into a C-mindful state. I’ve often worked through plot knots while cooking. The activity is absorbing enough that it distracts but it doesn’t require a great deal of concentration—sometimes none at all. Perfect for c-mind problem solving!

So here’s the reminder: We have to eat, so why not approach the occasional cooking *chore* as an opportunity to delight our senses, relax our minds and catalyze whatever we want to do with our excess creative energy.

bon appétit

“Mount Desert Dragons” acrylic on canvas 16″ x 20″ © 2007 Tyler Darvintyne; all rights reserved

It’s wonderful to think that The PCQ has enough history and pure BULK to it that I can be distracted for so many weeks and still have new and renewable readers drop by everyday. Welcome to you all!

Over the summer, I didn’t post as much as I expected but I knew that I was doing well and good by taking a break from what had been a months-long task of putting this zine and its archives into the new format. I needed to get outside, enjoy the too-short summer months, do some physical work and complete other tasks that had been put off too long. It was a great summer.

However, I didn’t expect September to be such a bust as far as posting! I was so inspired and had great ideas for several new articles and posts, but guess what? I didn’t have time.

“dark matter telescopic” 12 x 9 acrylic on canvas © 2007 Tyler Darvintyne; all rights reserved

A trip to see my son and granddaughter came up unexpectedly. My son had the opportunity to show his art work last weekend in Bar Harbor, Maine and he needed help—babysitting and otherwise. I’ve included in this post some samples of his art. I think of it as pure energy with a large dollop of joy. I love it!

“Skies of Van Gogh” acrylic on canvas; 11″ x 14″
by Tyler Darvintyne © 2007 all rights reserved

His first outing was exhausting work for all of us, but a big success. He not only sold quite a bit of art, he learned a massive amount about how to show and sell his work.

I also got to spend almost 10 days with my granddaughter, Acadia, also known as “Cadi.” She’s 27 months old. What an age! I kept thinking, No wonder Tyler is so creative these days, he’s got Cadi around to inspire him everyday. But of course, we all know that it’s not that simple. Children are exhausting and Tyler is raising her all by himself with no family nearby to give him any relief. I think the explosion of creativity is as much about needing to do something other than parenting as much as anything else.

“Land Ho” acrylic on canvas 9″x12″ © 2007 Tyler Darvintyne all rights reserved

Whatever the reason, it’s certainly working for him. Here’s the artist, Darvintyne with a few of his paintings:

And finally, though I don’t post too many purely personal items here, I can’t resist another image, this one of Cadi. Long-time readers will remember her newborn to infant photos from the original PCQ subscriber’s page. She’s still the best!

aka “GRANCY”

For more of Darvintyne’s work go to: quintessential abstractions- http://tylermetzger.wordpress.com

[-painting, process, interview-]

Interview with artist, Donna Marsh
by Nancy Waldman

what I’m reading; oil on canvas, 8 x 16; © 07 donna marsh all rights res.

Donna is an internet friend whose juicy paintings have inspired me to begin painting again after a long time away from it. I knew that she had stopped painting for years and has returned to it fairly recently, so I asked her questions that are pertinent to this process of picking up a “lost art” and also ones that her paintings made me wonder about. I share my questions and Donna’s answers with you in the expectation that there are others out there who have gotten away from a creative activity that they love; those who need a push to get back to it.

Whether or not you’re in that situation, I know you’ll enjoy reading Donna’s story, her thoughts about painting and of course, seeing a few of Donna’s more recent paintings. If you are thinking about picking up a lost art, here is your nudge in the right direction.

green room with mirror; oil on canvas, 14 x 18; © 2007 donna marsh all rights reserved

What got you back into painting after a long time away from it?

I was working as a cashier at a grocery store. An old painter who has a name around here started talking art to me whenever I tallied his oranges. He gave me a book of his paintings. I also accepted an invitation to go see some of them. This was really exciting for me because I hadn’t thought about painting in a long time. After two years in a college fine arts program life moved on the way it does and I just forgot about it. I never really decided to stop. I just forgot I did it. When Mr. Nemeth found out I had bothered to study he wanted to see my paintings. I didn’t have any. He said, “But you don’t stop. You never stop. You can take a rest sometimes but you don’t stop.” Then he never stopped asking for that painting until I produced it. He had an answer for everything too. When I told him I didn’t have any paint he picked a day to go downtown and buy some. He gave me brushes. Later on he advised me to quit my job because I wasn’t painting enough.

I told him I needed the money. His answer, “The world looks after artists.” What a wonderful way to think. I thought it was a bit nuts but he was born in 1919. He had to know a thing or two.

It was like coming back to life to paint again.

houses, Dorval; oil on canvas, 20 x 20, © 2007 donna marsh all rights reserved

What’s been most difficult about getting back into it?

There was a lot of fear in the beginning. People see paintings. They’re hard to hide. Maybe I didn’t know how anymore and people would see that. I had to get over that “doing things right” anxiety because to get it back and then go forward, I had to be willing to let things go wrong. Also, painting is messy and takes up a lot of physical space. I had to learn how to take that space and defend that space because it was important. The same applied to the time. Defending the time has probably been the most difficult part of getting back into it. In school I was studying so nobody ever questioned it. It was hard to teach others and myself that “I’m home painting” does not equal “I’m doing nothing please interrupt me.”

balconies and fire escapes; oil on canvas, 30 x 36; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

Do you have any tips for other painters in the same situation?

People actually have opinions about what painters should paint. This can be a shock at first. But if they’re really dying for a certain image to come into being they can go paint it themselves. Paint what you want and don’t worry about it making sense or fitting in with what’s going on at the other easels or even fitting in with what you most admire. Sometimes these things don’t work out to be the same. I can sit for hours in front of large minimalist works that appear to be one grey, taking in the sweep of the brushstrokes and subtle gradations of light on the work. Though it wouldn’t excite me to paint that myself, I’m glad it excited Charles Gagnon enough to paint it. It’s taken me a few years to know what I want to paint. I find if it excites me I’m on the right track. Execution becomes a fascinating challenge.

let’s get lost; oil on canvas, 24 x 36 inches; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

Do you paint from photos? what’s in front of you? memory? imagination?

I paint from photos and from what’s in front of me. I’m interested in painting more from memory. I think there’s always imagination in a painting. I admit I’ve been working out some guilt over the use of photos. I wasn’t trained that way. It wasn’t allowed. But I like to have something to look at as a starting point and I found the terrain too limited for what I wanted to do if I only painted “in situ”. I still enjoy getting out for some plein air work or I’ll drag the outdoor easel over to something in the house that interests me. There’s a different feeling to translating space that’s all around me and in front of me. I like to stay in touch with that.

a hotel window; oil on canvas, 20 x 24; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

In what ways has your painting changed over the years?

The big difference between now and then (when I stopped) is that my colours are brighter and I’m less inhibited. I like to feel the paint and really muck around in it. Impasto is no longer a stranger to me. In the years since I’ve restarted, I find my understanding of what I want to paint has become much clearer and the paintings make more sense to me as a group. Also as I gain more control over the paint I get looser.

drive-thru service; oil on canvas, 22 x 28; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

And now, my turn—why Donna’s work is so inviting and appealing to me.

Part of it is what Donna talks about when she mentions Charles Gagnon. Often what we like is something that we would never choose to paint ourselves. I am drawn to Donna’s urban and suburban landscapes because I wouldn’t think to paint them but I like seeing them. Her use of thick paint and bright colours for these seemingly drab subjects makes me want to re-think them. It makes me believe that I haven’t really seen what’s there.

I am also drawn in by the energy in these paintings. The brush strokes, the lines drawn into them, the runny paint, all impart the bodily energy that Donna uses when she paints. The paint may have dried and hardened but the energy is still there as I look at them.

I also notice space, or lack of it, in Donna’s work. In ‘houses, dorval’ we get a long wide open view. The paint is applied going away from us, stretching out in response to the scene. In ‘balconies and fire escapes’ the lack of space is part of what makes it all so effective. The representation of over-lapping structures makes me feel the crowdedness of a city.

Being representational scenes, there is also light to consider. With Donna’s paintings, the light is conveyed through colour. I don’t get the feeling that there is any separation as she paints, between the objects and the atmosphere and quality of light that is with them. This gives the a glow to the work that seems to radiate from within.

Energy, colour, looseness, inner light. It’s not ’safe’ painting and, for me, that’s why they work.

Thanks, Donna for sharing your work and your thoughts with us. You can see more of Donna’s paintings at her flickr site. Donna lives with her family in Quebec, Canada where she just manages to carve out time and space to paint.

[-warm-up, drawing-]

Here’s a creative warm-up exercise that uses categories.

Choose a category each day to draw in your journal. Divide your paper into 8 - 12 small sections. Decide on the length of time you want to devote to this. My suggestion is to start with no more than ten minutes. Quicker sketches will loosen you up. Later on, you may want to devote more time to the sketches.

Draw a version of your chosen category in each of the sections.

The idea is to warm-up your creative brain by doing quick, non-threatening, simple drawings. Doing a lot of drawings of one thing helps you explore your visual knowledge of that category. You will find that you’re going to learn a lot about yourself, your visual memory, your ability to express a simple thing quickly and you’ll find yourself being more observant of that category once you’ve done the exercise.

Here’s my “Fruit” category page:
As you see, this isn’t great art. They are quick simple, even iconic sketches. And yet, I found out a lot from doing them.

I found out quickly that to distinguish between a drawing of an apple, a peach, a plum and even a lemon is tricky, but can be done. I found out that though I have removed plenty of them, I couldn’t, when I started, remember what the stem of a pineapple looks like. I found out that in order to make a peach look like a peach, you have to turn your pencil on its side to get a softer edge. I remembered that the skin of a lemon is pitted and that’s a bit of a different pencil mark that the tiny seeds of a strawberry. I found out that in order to sketch a bunch of grapes, it’s easier (and more fun) to sketch the dark, negative spaces that just draw the overlapping grapes. I found that sometimes a fruit is best depicted by the drippy, wetness that ends up on the surface below it. I found out that it was hard for me to come up with twelve fruits and that I didn’t seem to have a clue what shape a fig is.

Try it. It’s fun and you’ll be amazed how much it will stretch you.

Here’s a list to get you going:

I threw in the last three to remind you that these don’t have to be solid objects. But stick with the simpler ones at first. See what happens. After doing these for a while, revisit a category so you can see how the first sketches compare with ones you do after sensitizing yourself to this process and to thinking visually.

And, let us know what you learned by doing this exercise!

[-process, painting-]

Mama and baby gables

Originally uploaded by nuanc.

Hi all! I took some time off from posting during July. It’s been good to get outside and away from the computer. One of the things I’ve been doing is painting—but not my usual kind.

We are finishing up painting the roof line of our old house. This project started in 2002 when my husband put a pitched roof on the previously flat-roofed house. That gave us five new gables. (They are all different sizes so, in order to be able to refer to them without confusion, I dubbed them the Grandfather, Papa, Mama, Teenager and Baby Gables.)

We decided to give the outside of the house more detailing and a lot more colour! The painting started in 2003 with the largest of the gables. We are only now back around to where we started with the last little bit of trim near the roof. (Then we have the rest of the house to paint….after we put on a new front porch!)

The painting is, as you can see, fairly intricate and calls for precision. As I paint, I can’t help but be pulled back to other times in my life where I’ve used paint brushes on a daily basis to do art, not house painting. The feel of paint leaving a paint brush is very enticing, even when all you’re trying to do is paint a straight line.

The process puts me back in touch with that realm of paint and colour, edges and transitions, the build-up of colour and illusion of light that all go into painting a picture on paper or canvas. It is attracting me back to something that I once spent a lot of time doing but have been away from for a long time.

So what do I do with this urge that I’m not only feeling, but—now with this post—acknowledging in public?

It would be easiest for me to let it pass. That I have other interesting and important things to do with my time, other than paint, is true. That summer is busy enough without starting in on another creative pursuit is logical. But the real reason I have for resisting the urge to put paint on paper or canvas is that I’m afraid. I’m afraid of not being inspired once I get to it. I’m afraid that the urge is best felt and not acted on. I’m afraid that what was once a passion of mine, will not recur for me if I try it again. I’m afraid that what I paint will be unsatisfying and mediocre. All of these things and more have kept me away from painting for years now.

But here’s the other side of fear. One of the big reasons I started Practically Creative was to use it as a fulcrum (”an agent through which vital powers are exercised.”) in continuing to work through blocks and indecisions and self-defeatist issues that have always been a part of my creativity. I have fewer problems than I used to, but—as this as yet un-acted on urge shows—those issues never fully recede.

I’ll paint something other than my house today (it’s raining today, anyway). I’ll dust off some tubes of paint, pick a favourite brush or two and I’ll start small. I can’t promise myself much but I think I can manage enjoyment of the seductive feel of paint coming off a brush.

Then, I’ll see what appears.

Happy last days of July!

Here’s a post from my blog that has photos and details of the house painting project: The Up Side of Outside
Another post about the history of our old house: Of Things Dreamed Of

[process, inspiration]

Book box

Originally uploaded by cramzy.

A Good Sunday Morning in May to you all!

The photo to the right is one from The Practically Creative Group on flickr. It’s posted by ‘cramzy,’ a wonderful fibre artist whose work has impressed me continually.

Cramzy, also known as Emmy Schoonbeek, does all kinds of fanciful, beautiful and colourful stitchery, constructions and embellishments. This one caught my eye because of its cross-pollination effect. It’s so many things and includes so many things all at once.

It’s fibre art. It’s collage. It’s construction. It’s functional. It’s art. It’s a box. It’s a book. It’s got words, music, textile, paper, beads and probably lots more that we can’t see. Do click the image to see it in larger form.

I believe that this process of cross-pollination is one of the best ways to be freshly inspired and motivated.

It’s easy to utilize various skills and interests in our work when we’re already FEELING inspired and creative. That’s part of what makes it fun when one good idea or impulse bounces off another to create something new and unique. But it also can work for us when we can’t find that FEELING.

If you are in the doldrums with painting, try writing in your journal. Brainstorm. Do calligraphy until it turns into something else. Play with letters until they are abstract shapes.

If you can’t get started writing, do a quick symbolic collage of your main character. Or put on music that you love but don’t often listen to.

Another trick is to use these alternate parts of ourselves to be creative while taking a break from whatever has depleted our motivation. For example, when I’ve written myself into a corner, I find cooking to be a wonderful activity to immerse myself in. It’s creative and involves the senses but it doesn’t require a lot of mental concentration. This flow of activity allows my mind time to wander in a relaxed way. Without forcing it, I often find a way out of that corner and come back to the writing inspired and motivated—with a good meal under my belt!

Thanks, Emmy, for your inspiration this morning. Be sure to visit cramzy on flickr and at her blog.

[-essay-]

by Nancy S.M. Waldman

I have a close friend who has compared herself unfavorably to me in terms of creativity ever since we were girls. According to her, I’m creative and she isn’t.

But I never bought it.

She’s a elementary school teacher and I’ve seen the way she tackles a challenging situation in her classroom. She goes at that challenge with a buoyancy, inspiration and mental ingenuity that can only be described as creative.

Human beings are, by nature, creative. But there’s an odd dichotomy in evidence that people who are inclined toward the arts are labelled “creative” and those who aren’t are said—often by themselves—to be “non-creative.” This harmful labelling ignores other kinds of creativity.

My friend’s is a practical kind of creativity.

On the other hand, there are throngs of people who are clearly creative in the realm of the arts who have trouble getting started, staying on track, producing, finishing, keeping their confidence up. And, having been one of these people from time-to-time in my life, I can tell you that it’s not a situation that can easily be ignored. This kind of non-productive creativity is frustrating and painful.

I think of it as being impractically creative.

The Practically Creative Quarter is a zine for both ends of this extreme, as well as for those who are in the middle. Here, we explore ways in which the practical and the creative within each of us can learn to co-exist in peace and flourish in whichever direction we need to go.

If you are a compulsive type who can be creative but is overly focussed on the end product, delve into our process articles and see if you can’t experience the mind-healing, freeing flow of simply being involved in a creative experience that has no intended product.

If you are one of those people who starts many things but finishes nothing, take in some of our more practical tips and graphic reminders to discipline yourself to focus a little more on the outcome.

If you are like my friend (used to be) but you desperately want more hands-on kinds of creativity in your life, try some of our tutorials. Being creative is about taking the steps to learn how, to allow yourself to be a beginner, and not to get discouraged if one kind of creativity doesn’t turn out to be ‘your thing.’

And everyone needs an occasional dose of inspiration, creative cross-pollination or a light-hearted reminder about not expecting perfection.

Being Practically Creative isn’t about what you create. It’s about harnessing a creativity that works for you. Whether your kind of creativity needs more focus on practical discipline -or- on having a freer flow of creativity, you are capable of unifying these two aspects of yourself. The more fully we can integrate the practical and the creative parts within us, the less likely we are to be that other kind of practically (meaning: all but, nearly, almost) creative!

Make peace between the practical and the creative within yourself and enjoy the experience as well as the results.

[-essay, self-evolution, process-]

by Nancy Waldman

I make marks, therefore I am.

Durham Dr. & Center St. (Houston, TX)

Originally uploaded by Mr. Waldo.

Since the days men lived in caves, human beings have demonstrated the need to make their mark on this world.

From those cave paintings, to the tick marks on a prison wall, to Kilroy was here! during World War II, to graffiti through the ages and up to today, making marks is a way to say, Look at me! I was here! I am special! I exist!

Making these kinds of marks is pure self-promotion.

I picked this illustration of a lively painted Waldo by Mr. Waldo out of the Practically Creative flickr pool because it is a wonderful photograph (from a city I lived in and know well) that illustrates perfectly this rather strong desire that people have to make their mark.

In common language, we also talk about “making your mark” as meaning gaining success. Whether that means being famous, getting rich or being respected in one’s field, it is often referred to by this artistic metaphor. This metaphor not only works with the achievement of success but also with the process of seeking it.

Self-promotion is a necessary part of gaining any kind of success in the arts. It’s also something that many creative types do badly or not at all. We’re often uncomfortable putting our work, ourselves, out there. We all know people who are natural self-promoters. Sometimes these people over promote themselves. Everything they do self-generates a spin that makes that endeavor the best, the most, the tops. Whether it’s deserved self-congratulations or not, these super-promoters often grow tiresome. Because of this, the rest of us may come to think of self-promotion as the last thing we want to be associated with. But this is a mistake.

When the graffiti artist (please note the emphasis on artist) makes his mark on the storefront wall, he is putting his work out there. It’s a step way beyond doing art in his school notebook or in his room at home. He’s self-promoting just by the act of creating. When the artist takes his portfolio to art galleries or the photographic journalist to a newspaper or magazine, it is necessary self-promotion. When the writer sends and re-sends (and on and on) her short stories or novels out to agents, publishers, new markets, she is self-promoting.

Once we admit this to ourselves, we may also want to admit that other kinds of ‘marks’ may be admissible and helpful. Having a web presence is a perfect example. Those of us who were around long before there was an internet grew up believing that we needed permission from someone with power before we could call ourselves artists. Because of this, there can be sheepishness about claiming space on the internet. When you buy your first web address—yourownname.com—you may feel that it’s not quite proper for you to have a personal web-site because you haven’t published anything yet or you don’t have gallery representation or a record label.

Get over it! It’s a new age. The web is littered with self-promoters who’ve garnered well-deserved attention that would not have happened under the old system.

Make your mark whether it’s exhibiting in a local art show, entering a contest, getting a myspace account or making your own fabulous web-site.

And if your thing is public art, perhaps you can, as Mr. Waldo has done, make your mark all over the globe and become a legend just as Kilroy did.
Thanks Mr. Waldo for letting us use your photo.

Please click on Mr. Waldo’s image to see more of his work.

See these other posts on making your mark:
Graphic Reminder
Art Tutorial

[-writing, motivation-]

Creative Writing

Originally uploaded by maher berro.

This photo speaks for itself, doesn’t it?

Maybe I chose it because it’s Monday morning, the sun isn’t shining so brightly today and I’m feeling at a lower ebb than I have for a while. It’s so pleasing to be able to write a tide-y blog entry everyday, but some days the ideas don’t flow as well as others.

The thing I love about this image (in addition to maher berro’s great title) is the sense of urgency. That water is coming, coming soon, and nothing can stop it. And, it’s going to alter everything.

“Time and tide wait for no man.” (Alexander Pope)

I think it’s a sign. I have to start working on that novel again. Okay everyone, go, now, today, before the tide washes this moment away. Write (or draw or sculpt) in the sand! If you don’t have a beach nearby (or it’s too darned cold) you can use a journal or computer or mashed potatoes (if you’re into sculpting).

thanks, maher berro, for a lighthearted look at the ephemeral nature of nature, creativity and our lives. ‘bye till tomorrow~
*waves***waves***waves*

Originally published in the original Practically Creative blog, February 2006

[-fiber art, journals, art-]

second stage, my heart current
© 05 - 07 all rights reserved

Uploaded by arlee.

This work of fiber art by arlee is the second stage of her ongoing work on a fabric art journal she calls, My Heart Current.
About this arlee said that she’s trying new things such as:

foiling, the use of my own hand dyed fabrics, some rough edge applique and lots of spontaneity!

Journaling has undergone quite a transformation in the last few years. What used to be a simple pen and paper way to chronicle thoughts or life events has become an art form in and of itself. Now fiber artists are taking it further, making the whole journal a piece of art. These art journals can be made of paper or textiles or both.

Thanks arlee, for sharing your process and your finished products.
See more of arlee’s work and thoughts at Albedo Design

Here’s a collaborative blog: fabricartjournals.blogspot.com
All our Journaling posts.
Articles on Altered Books
- Karen Hatzigeorgiou
- Nancy’s first attempt is chronicled and illustrated

Originally published by permission of the artist in the original Practically Creative blog, February 2006; slightly edited for re-publication