So this is what happened: once upon a [magical] time I found myself in a pool in Brighton hospital screaming away trying to push a child with the head of a small melon out of me. I hallucinated through the pain and after many painful hours a cute little person lay in my arms. Wonderful.
Then, 18 months later, I sweated over making my own art journal, I pricked my fingers several nights with the needle while threading the paper carefully. It was like giving birth all over again, in a different way, but yes I birthed a book, a sacred beautiful journal book. I admired it with love and joy.
Then, one evening (read; this evening), a friend comes round and I excitedly want to show her the beautiful sacred book I made with my bear hands, but because the person who I pushed out of me 18 months ago has screaming fits if I leave the room for a minute or more, I decide to carry him with me up the stairs, into the art room to go get the journal to prevent too much drama in the house. Babe on the arm, I go up the stairs, pick up the journal lovingly, walk down the stairs again (babe & journal both in arms), walk past the kitchen, and all of a sudden feel a bit of wet on/ near my hand…
I look down and the melon-head boy has PUKED ALL OVER MY NEW SACRED JOURNAL!!!!
Puked I tell YOU! PUKED!
I let out one loud YELP! Shout at Andy: tissues! tissues! tissues! The whole cover is covered in the vomit. I am beside myself with disbelief, I might faint or spontaneously combust. Puke puke puke on my sacred sacred journal! This can’t be happening, no no no! Disaster! Disaster! Disaster!
Can I hear a OMGODDDDDDD?!
So I’ve been sitting there with dettol wipes with apple fragrance trying to get the vomit smell off my sacred journal, in tears and fuming (not with Dylan of course, he can’t help it – instead I blamed Andy because he was cooking chillies and they make you cough and when Dylan coughs he often has to puke, so it’s all Andy’s fault, he now has to eat the journal. Kidding totally -not. ;) No really, just kidding, ha ha).
I just can’t believe how unfortunate it was. I’ve worked through the trauma now, and the journal is still usable but still. Effing hell.
Let me give you a moment to recover from the shock of ‘puke on sacred journal’. I know you need it. I needed it too.
Ok, over it?
Let me show you another paint over collage painting, I’m loving doing these:
and here are the before and after (click on image to see larger):
Collage a pleasing [to you] composition together, then paint, brayer, embellish etc over it! So fun, messy and expressive. Highly enjoyable to do I find.
Ok, in other news, I just wrote the word ‘disaster’ 3 times and all of a sudden it lost all its meaning. Ha.
Going to bed now, snugs and muffins.