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WordLayers
journal writing
for the creative soul
I have been keeping journals since 1996 and now have
volumes of spiral bound chapters of my life stacked on shelves in the studio
where I write. In the process of reading past journals it became clear to me
that within my ordinary life I have lived some incredibly rich stories. These
stories came into focus day by day as words formed on journal page and writing became a tangible form of exploring days lived and experiences thought
about.
There were times when I didn’t know how to write the words
I needed to say. WordLayers debuted during a time of decision without solution. I was on the fence and couldn’t
see the thoughts in my own head much less write them down. Which way to go? Fear
froze my steps. I needed help and there was none. No one could make this decision
for me. I needed more .. more tools to construct an answer.
This was going to be a project, a creative one. I went to
an art store to find a blank book or a unique batch of handmade paper on which
to write solid answers. After looking at the possibilities, I selected a large
16”x20” sketchbook with stiff black cover, spiral binding and smooth cream
paper. Next, after an embarrassingly long time spent fondling each color on
the round rotating kiosk, I chose 8 markers as creative means with a
mission:
.. interpret solution
.. crack open language
.. untie dyslexia
.. release communication
This process of writing began with
sketchbook on my lap and markers in a canning jar on the table by my bed. I
selected a color of the moment and began to write in a free hand style
changing colors mid-sentence or continuing monochrome from left to right down
the long wide page. I was touched by the effect color had on my writing. Why?
It brought me joy, took me to play. I had a decision to make and writing with
markers in a big sketchbook altered my perspective. In the manner of Dorothy
stepping into OZ, writing my life went from black and white to living color.
The markers modified the "usualness" of daily writing as
did, I suppose, a recognition of change and follow through. Focus turned to an
unpronounced flow of words. Unrestricted
writing necessitated the mask of overwriting: writing over words already
written.
I limited the scale to one page. The solution to a
problem should take no more space than the problem itself. After filling the
page with words, I continued to write on top of this first layer. All words
were important and imbued with intentional energy while caprice managed color.
Second layer words fell into a repetition of words already written. Like an
affirmation read at daybreak and carried through the day, words of solution
are worth repeating in layers. Whether fresh or familiar, I filled the page again and
again, layer after layer, word on word. That multi-layered text in various
colors is a significant synopsis of the decision making process. A new perspective
was seeping through the visible layers of conscious thought.
Perhaps, linking arms with the
creative is the solution. I continue to give more time to the action of
writing in this new way than to worry about outcome.
Writing in layers is writing with depth, visually. The eye
travels vertically and reading becomes sensation rather than literate.
Vertical text places attention on the creative of word. It was
delicious to let what was inside, out. During the difficult years, I asked and
answered scores of my own questions. I wrote my life. This process became art
as play replaced plan and choice replaced prescribed.
I
began to visualize the words and phrases of my life.
Writing words and writing until
all words are written becomes art and here, at this point, there are no words.
One night I started to write about a decision in need of deciding. I
wrote all the negatives of deciding one way and not the other. This writing
was so spontaneously charged that I didn't
take time
to turn the page. Instead, I
wrote on the same page a second time, in a different color ink,
in a different direction. The words came and my writing continued on to a
third layer using a new color and flowing in a new direction. After seven
layers I closed the sketchbook, capped the pens and went to bed to sleep. —
Through the process of WordLayers I have returned the self
of me, to the land of no words where only art lives in the palm of God’s hand.
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