I had MANY strange dreams last night but one really strange one had me entering a suburban house in the midwest and walking upstairs and seeing my mom desperately vacuuming rugs and wall to wall carpeting. She lived there alone. She had all new decor- very Americana- none of our old stuff. Nothing recognizable at…
Simple OWL drawing lesson using kid-grade felt pens
[Film by Anna Thorsen] I teach OWL drawing for most, if not all, of my creative engagement workshops. I use the OWL image as it is easy to break it down into simple geometric shapes on which to build form. I usually use china marker. But we don’t always have the “right” material. We have…
I can’t help but to wonder: Am I ready?
The whole world is experiencing an extraordinary, difficult and dangerous time. I can’t help but to wonder: Am I ready to die? A journal entry from August 2013 Is it ok to die today? Would I run into Mamma and Pappa’s arms? Would I be at torpet: my childhood summer house? Would there be flowers and yellow…
A sock snapping turtle eating David Sedaris’ tumour. A handmade gift.
Does anyone else (well, I know my daughter does) feel like David Sedaris (and his sister Amy) is a family member? I am that kind of fan. Sorry. Reading his books, alone or in public, inevitably leads to me rocking back and forth in tears or in laughter or both. I have always fought against…
Shaping non-fiction characters.
What was initially to be a short volunteer research project into a Vancouver cold case to support a theory championed by a retired homicide detective, became, for me [and continues to be], a 17+ year personal journey “to restore to now dead people the fullness and degree of complication of their lives. To restore their humanness…
Courage
My writing/art project (the one I have been working on for 16 and a half years) is unfolding in new, fast and lovely ways. The ghosts are happy and all is locking into place. The creative process has been a windy, strange and incredible path through a dense and dark forest until now. All of…
“She drank alone…” Journal entry
She walks– arms crossed, cold hands tucked into armpits, chin tucked into chest. The familiar dark ink pool spreads around her feet. She bends down this time. Curious? Her reflection- just fragmented spirals. She slips! lurching upward and backward, around. The black ink fills her mouth. Hog-tied, she lets out a fluid-filled silent scream. A…
A quick creative project on last day of 2019: The Death and Burial of Cock Robin
Rainy stay-inside sick day today. I have stayed in PJs and creative process. I spent the last few hours interpreting The Death and Burial of Cock Robin with ink, watercolour and salt. [Source: Gutenberg Press. Original text by anonymous circa 14th-17th century] Chanticleer, what want you here, So early in the morning? “Cock-a-doodle-doo,” says he, pray don’t you…
See you in 2020.
Time to read a lot, to write a lot, to do my art a lot, to focus on family, on my health, to finish projects and to reflect on next steps. To balance output with input. Thank you as always for your support. Much love and best wishes, Katarina
I had a strange dream last night.
I am in a large hospital ward/art studio atelier with large windows and high ceilings. It is a sunny day outside. The room is filled with easels, tables and students. Outside the room, there is a stairwell in the centre of this old building and you can see down to main lobby. We are on the third…
William March’s Company K (1933) studies- ink, watercolour, coffee, salt
I have never ceased to wonder at the thing we call human nature, with its time of beauty and its time of filthiness, or at the level of calm stupidity that lies in between the two. – William March, Company K (1933)
INKtober 2018: My 31 daily studies of Truman Capote’s IN COLD BLOOD
INKTOBER 2018 “Jake Parker created Inktober in 2009 as a challenge to improve his inking skills and develop positive drawing habits. It has since grown into a worldwide endeavor with thousands of artists taking on the challenge every year.” [SOURCE] — Imagination, of course, can open any door– turn the key and let the terror…
Inktober Oct 1-12, “Morfar’s Klass.” Old family photo studies.
I am obsessed with this photo of my grandfather’s school class (Hudiksvall, Sweden). He is in the top left. I have drawn it over and over and painted it. But something never allows me to finish. I get as far as some of the girls, then the rest refuse a portrait. I tried again…
For my aunt Siv
These two women- my great aunt Helga, and my aunt Siv, had the most compassionate impact on my life. Helga- she taught me to follow my heart- MY HEART. Mine. Siv- she taught me to stay neutral and in joy and embrace children as fully formed human beings to be celebrated, not moulded. I remember…
Dear Camille, I regret…
Dear Camille, Today is your birthday. I open my journal to share something with you. We met in dance class at university in 1983. We found our way to each through dance, through arts and crafts, through books, through pie. And through letters. We intertwined our bodies in the studio and on stage. I regret…
I don’t bleed anymore. Finding solace in journal pages.
“These are the days of tweeting, blogging, posting, instagraming, snapchatting, you name it. Everyone seems to be doing it. Some people seem very comfortable expressing every morsel of their living and breathing and eating into the world. Not that this isn’t totally fascinating to the one sharing, but most people (including me) don’t care about…
Pausing at the well.
This morning’s journal entry reflecting on the lesson of this sabbatical. Pausing at the well. Being present to see the world more deeply. With mind-FULL-ness. (Doodles inspired by the work of María Hesse)
“All you have to do now is allow…” Sabbatical reflections.
I am on sabbatical/working remotely/dog and kitten sitting in San Francisco… life changing, soul searching, peaceful… no words suffice. The real lesson will show itself soon. It is finally here! What you’ve longed for is finally here! Know that all you have to do now is allow and be receptive when the opportunity presents itself….
Turn the page- visualizing fading memory
My latest favourite daily practice is to quickly sketch and then saturate the drawing with watercolour crayon and coffee. I love the feel of the wrinkled page. How the coffee ages the image. The way a drenched drawing has a life of its own – beyond my control. I am most in love with the…
Quick sketch: Young gull at English Bay
Why is it,” Jonathan puzzled, “that the hardest thing in the world is to convince a bird that he is free, and that he can prove it for himself if he’d spend a little time practicing? Why should that be so hard? – Richard Bach
Here were valleys filled with tiny trees and minuscule, tangled vines…
I am a collector. I love the details of seemingly mundane little objects. I collect discarded plants and nurse them back to life. I collect bits and pieces underneath the heron nests. I collect chestnuts. They remind me of my mom, who would often tell me she collected chestnuts in shoeboxes as a child. I…
There are times of no ideas… – Lynda Barry (but there is always process)
Daily disciplined connection with my journal maintains my creative process and even though the entries are seemingly unrelated to my writing project… … they cleanse my brain and I am more driven to write as I stay in flow…
Psaltriparus minimus playing in a tree…
I was charmed this morning by a flock of tiny birds playing and eating bugs in the tree above my bus stop. A whole bunch of bushtits.
So what is the relationship with the blog? It begs to show more of your life in it…
Journal entry July 20, 2019 Sometimes I feel overwhelming sadness that has a type of mystery and release. Perhaps it’s [binging] Queer Eye S4 that hits me in my most vulnerable low self-esteem spots, maybe it’s seeing Squeak lose weight and anticipating losing her… … maybe it’s the awe of knowing I am… have overcome…
Stream of consciousness #writing and #drawing as #anxietytool
I am diving into a therapeutic and academic exploration into anxiety disorder to wrangle and understand the beast and to build a creative curriculum of tools. Besides lots of reading, my daily routine includes stream of consciousness writing and drawing, with no attachment to outcome. I believe with all my heart that just understanding…
RIP Freddie Jones
Frederick Charles Jones September 12, 1927 – July 9, 2019