Quinn McDonald's Blog, page 77

Perfectionist Practices

In creating samples for the book, I do the art first, then write about it. So the first page I do is an experiment. I riff on an idea, create a few takes, and then finally have a specific idea.

I did the riffing earlier this year, getting to the point where I knew the sections of the book and roughly what the artwork would look like. So all I had to do was make the final piece. And how hard can it be to do a card if I already have the idea and several samples?

Turns out, plenty hard. Because in my head, this next one had to be perfect. And once it had to be perfect, it never was. Card after card didn’t turn out, looked lame, wasn’t what I meant, had unflattering colors. I made mistakes, and when I started over, I made different mistakes.

And time after time, I realized that the card I made when I was just riffing was the card that worked best. The cards in the first group were made with full interest and no fear. There wasn’t any pressure to perform or have it be perfect for the book. It was great the way it was.

That was a big lesson I needed to learn again: when you are playing, you do your best work. When you are working, you are tense and there are too many people watching  and speaking–at least in my head. My crew consisted of imaginary critics: future readers of the book,  my mother, a caricature of my editor (who is incredibly nice in real life) and Sister Michael Augustine, who was responsible for my learning how to write right-handed in 7th grade. Oh, my inner critic was there too, with the family.

Your best creative work is done in play. Who knew?

–Quinn McDonald is writing a book on inner heroes and inner critics.

Filed under: Inner Critic, Recovering Perfectionists Tagged: creativity coaching, inner critic, perfectionist, self-destructive

Speaking Up For Your Own Sake

This is a bit tricky to write. But for many of us, it’s hard to speak up for ourselves. We are good at protecting our children, defending our animals, supporting the family. But when it comes time to speak up for ourselves, we fall silent.

There are many times we don’t stand up for ourselves–to carve out time for creativity, to speak up to ask for what we need, and to take a stand in a wobbly family situation. After speaking with my coaching clients, I have volumes of examples of how we turn over control to others.

This is about something much simpler–speaking up about the food we eat. A few days ago, I posted a comment on Facebook about not wanting to eat sugar anymore. Or sugar substitutes. I’m redefining my relationship with food, and while the decision is hard, I need to do it.

Most of the comments I got on Facebook were from the people I call “fixers,”–those who give advice without being asked to give any. And my email box filled up with them, too. “Drink a tablespoon of cider vinegar twice a day and you will lose weight,” one person said. I had said nothing about losing weight. “It’s not the sugar,” another person wrote, “it’s gluten. Stay away from it.” I don’t have a sensitivity to gluten, indeed, I love my carbs. Perhaps too much so. So that’s not helpful advice.

The instructions went on and on, mostly from women “fixers”–people who give unasked for and unwanted advice. Some asked if I were alcoholic (no, although I no longer drink–because alcohol converts to sugar), others asked if I were an addict (Sugar? Yes. Drugs? No). I was told to go to Overeaters Anonymous, to speak to a bariatric surgeon, to fast two days a week, to eat a Paleo Diet, to become vegan, to eat a raw diet. I received stories of how much weight people had lost. Not a single one of these people knew any details about my decisions or held a medical degree, but they felt perfectly comfortable giving me advice i had not asked for.

I didn’t respond to any of them, because fixers make terrible pen pals. They just want to fix you in ways they feel comfortable with.

What made my eyebrows go up were the emails that told me to lie about why I couldn’t eat sugar–because amping up your desire to change to a medical emergency makes your struggle more believable and worthy of attention. And people will not go along with your desire to change unless you persuade them that you are sick.

I was surprised. OK, I was shocked.  Until that moment, I thought that my desire to change was reason enough to not eat sugar. But it is not. The first conflict started when I turned down desert in a restaurant. My lunch partner frowned and said, “You always eat desert. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I am re-defining my relationship with sugar, and I am not eating desert anymore,” I replied. This is actually all anyone needs to know. I do not need to cite my diabetic parents (one of whom died from complications of diabetes),  my weight, my energy level. In a world where privacy is suspect, I was expected to not just explain my decision, but also explain it to a friend’s  satisfaction, or have it rejected.

“If you don’t eat desert, I can’t,” she said, pouting prettily.

“Of course you can,” I said, “I don’t mind and that is your decision.”

“No, I can’t eat all by myself. Let’s split a desert,” she suggested

“It sounds yummy, but I’m not good with half a desert. I’ll want more. I’ll eat yours,” I smiled, trying humor.

“OK, than we’ll each order one!” she crowed, having “won” the conversation. Before I could protest, she ordered two deserts. When mine was put in front of me, my mouth watered. I really wanted to eat it. I do love desert. But I knew that if I ate it, the battle would start all over again.

In fact, as I stared at the desert, I felt betrayed. Why do I have to eat desert to please the person across the table? I thought of pouring hot sauce on it to remove the temptation, but that would not be “nice” on my part. I wondered if I would have to eat the desert for friendship’s sake, in order not to make my lunch companion feel bad about herself. This was getting very complex quickly.

In the end, I said I was not that hungry and took the desert in a to-go box. And paid for it, despite the fact I had not wanted it.

And that’s the kind of speaking up I mean. I’ve repeated variations of this scene over and over since October 3, when I ate my last gratuitous carb. I should not have to explain or defend my decisions. I should not have to answer questions about my weight, perceived addictions, or goals. My decisions are mine and I have good reasons. I don’t want to argue diets and green smoothies, or the evils of gluten, which I have nothing against and which does not upset my intestinal tract at all.

But sugar alcohols do. And I don’t need to be told that Stevia is “natural” (so is poison ivy and curare, neither of which I want to eat), or agave syrup. One more time, eating sweet things makes me think I am hungry, makes me crave sugar, and I am redefining my relationship with food. That’s it. Other than that, instead of diet advice, a bit of empathy would be welcome. But empathy is hard to come by. Because, as a stranger in the gym told me, “being overweight was a choice you made, so don’t expect anyone to feel sorry for you.” That’s pretty harsh, as a lot of overweight is not one choice, but many made while trying to please others before yourself. (To say nothing of hormonal or genetic reasons).

Most of all, I am disturbed that people who do have allergies to food, real allergies, are being diminished and made suspect by those who have control issues and need to pretend to be sick to have their way.

It’s really hard to speak up for yourself when the reply is based on shame, guilt, or reproach. I’ve been asked how much weight I’ve lost (if I give a reply, the other person will immediately tell me she has lost more by doing it her way), and told I should keep a food diary, weigh my food, weigh myself every day, once a week or not at all.

Oh, yeah, and if you go to the gym, you’ll gain weight, because muscles weigh more than fat. I didn’t ask. All I want is respect for my dietary decisions. I don’t need your approval for my decision, or your agreement, just respect. Because standing up for myself is a worthy action.

-–Quinn McDonald is working on a book about the inner critic, who seems to have become ventriloquists on October 3. She knows that several people who are fixers will leave comments. And she won’t answer them. Can’t.

Filed under: In My Life Tagged: diabetic, diet, giving unwanted advice

Writing Through Revelations, Visions and Dreams

Stella Pope Duarte‘s new book, Writing through Revelations, Visions, and Dreams, the memoir of a writers’s soul, is an intriguing book. Stella does much more than tell stories from her own life, she invites us to wake up and pay attention to the signs in our lives.

Dreams may well be prophecies, but “To become reality a prophecy needs the cooperation from the one who received the message,” she writes.

She struggled for weeks to understand the dream she had about her father, who said to her, “It’s right there, mija, in front of you, what you have to do next.” What was she supposed to see? Why wouldn’t her father tell her? But she didn’t let it go or forget it. She stayed aware, waiting for more information. She didn’t run to look up what the dream meant in a dream book, because only the dreamer can untangle the meanings of dreams. She continued to question the dream until she was in a bookstore, and a book fell off the shelf at her feet. It was a book abou a  South African woman of mixed race and the love and hate she experienced. It dawned on Stella that this woman’s values were similar to her own, even if they lived thousands of miles apart. “She wrote what she knew,” and at that moment, Stella understood that it was the hallmark of every writer, and she could no longer distance herself from her own past.

In her talk at Changing Hands Bookstore on Thursday night, Stella told us she finally discovered that her father had foretold her becoming a writer. As a family therapist and a college professor, she had thought her career was in place, but her life of writing hadn’t begun. (Stella won the National Book Award for If I Die in Juárez in 2009)

Stella tells rapid-fire stories about growing up in Phoenix’s poorest barrio and living with domestic violence for years. She is brutally honest about this time in her life and what she learned from it. She shows the following slide:

It says, “If you come to terms with the dark parts of who you are,  you won’t have to marry them.” It was a profound moment. We are so attracted to what we are not, and feel it missing in our lives. It seems tempting and exotic, and yet, once we marry it, it becomes the foreign irritant in our lives that we struggle to change. We all know about the futility of changing other people, but that is the dance we do–we see the dark other parts of ourselves in a lover, we want it manifested, and when it does, we want to distance ourselves from it. You can’t do both, at least not at the same time.

The book is a combination of memoir, self-help for writers, and a comfort for those of us who have dreams that confuse and inspire us. The slim, 162-page volume is a quick read and an interesting view into the heart of a writer.

--Quinn McDonald couldn’t stay home and write; she had to go hear Stella Pope Duarte speak. And she’s glad she did.

Filed under: Book Reviews, The Writing Life Tagged: authors, memoir writing, Stella Pope Duarte

After the Freeze in Phoenix

Here in Phoenix, we had four consecutive days of below-freezing temperatures in Phoenix. The nighttime temperature went down to 24 degrees F, and the daytime hovered about the high 40s. If you live in the Midwest or East, this doesn’t sound bad at all, but our normal temperatures this time of year are in the low 60s during the day and between 35 and 40 at night.

Our plants are not built for this kind of deep-freeze. Freezing air settles differently in different places–it drifts, it kills the tops of plants more than the bottoms.

Here is some of the freeze damage I saw on my morning walk:

This tree is  a ficus. You know, the fussy plant you have in a decorative planter in your house. We have them as yard trees. In this photo, every leaf that looks brown is dead and will have to be trimmed off. that’s about a third of the tree.

Here’s a close up:

The totem pole cactus stands straight, looking like green candle wax in a chianti bottle. It takes about 20 years to grow one this size. Once it freezes, it can’t hold itself upright. In the background (top, left of the photo), you can see a grasstree with white portions. Those portions are frozen.

Prickly pear and paddle cactus didn’t fare much better:

This cactus will brown over the next few weeks. A more immediate browning happened on this blooming shrub. The white trumpet flowers cover the shrubs all winter. These were caught in mid-blossom:

For a naturalist (like me), seeing these plants dead or injured is painful. Some will come back, some won’t.

I remember New England winter days, after an ice storm, when you could hear the whine of chainsaws up and down the street for days, as they chewed up trees that had fallen or knocked down power lines. In a few weeks, you’ll hear them here, too, as we trim back what froze and wait for new growth.

–Quinn McDonald is a writer who is glad that the days of freeze are over. For now.

Filed under: Creativity, Nature, Inside and Out Tagged: four days of freezing weather, freeze in Phoenix, frozen plants, winter in Phoenix

Hearing Nicer Voices

Yesterday, I started a story about the negative chatter we all have in our head. Mine was running my life. It was negating what I was learning from books. When I was reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, I loved it. But afterwards, my negative self talk made me think the books was useless and being cynical was clever. Here, then, is what happened next. . .

Getting rid of negative chatter. . .

Once I started to meditate, I began to want the negative self-talk to stop. A friend suggested I replace the negative chatter with positive thoughts. Affirmations? Me? Impossible. Not me. I forced myself. “I am a creative person.” “I am good at problem solving.” “I am strong.” “I am talented.” At first, it seemed ridiculous, selfish, vain. Then I noticed that I WAS a good problem solver. People were asking me to help them with their problems.

Visualizing the Internet from Opte.org

. . . opens the door to powerful change

Something else happened. I began to lose the negativity I thought was part of me. I quit doing something I had always done well—using my wit to criticize others. . I stopped telling people why their idea wouldn’t work. I didn’t like the protection my public face gave me anymore. I wanted my life to contribute, not denigrate. I wasn’t quite ready to be vulnerable, but I was heading there.

Visualize change, create change

Using the same technique I used for meditation, hushing my mind, I began to imagine situations that seemed hard to me. Speaking to people. Explaining what I do. In my imagination, the people smiled at me. They were happy with what they heard. I had something useful to say. The more positive things I imagined, the more positive things I noticed when I was in training sessions or at art shows.

The next October, on a cool but sunny day, I recognized myself standing at an art show, laughing with some other artists. I was happy. It was exactly what I had envisioned in the leadership course from three years before.

Change isn’t instant, but it gets easier

Visualization works because you focus on what you can do to influence the outcome positively. And once you’ve envisioned something, you begin to work on making it happen. To make it happen, we push away the negative, and choose to replace it with positive thoughts and actions. The choices are sometimes hard, but they are fueled with small successes and moments of joy. Change does not happen in a day, or a week, but it grows with each decision you make to make a positive choice instead of a negative one.

The Alchemist returns

Eventually, I bought another copy of The Alchemist by Paul Coelho. It seemed to be a new book this time. Filled with deep truth in simple terms.

“The old man leafed through the book, and fell to reading a page he came to. The boy waited, and then interrupted the old man just as he himself had been interrupted. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because you are trying to realize your Personal Legend. And you are at the point where you’re about to give it all up.”

“And that’s when you always appear on the scene?”

“Not always in this way, but I always appear in one form or another. Sometimes I appear in the form of a solution, or a good idea. At other times, at a crucial moment, I make it easier for things to happen. There are other things I do, too, but most of the time, people don’t realize I’ve done them.” (p.25)

I finished reading the book and purchased 10 copies, which I’ve given away to people who want to transition into a different stage of their life. The negative self-talk will always be with you, but as a friend of mine says, “it’s always with me on the way to a show, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let it drive.”

–If you don’t want to tackle learning how to meditate, you can start with daydreaming. It’s easy and you get great results. Don’t focus on any one thing, let your mind drift. But if your mind drifts on negative thoughts, give it something to solve or a creative challenge.

–Quinn McDonald is a writer. She’s pushing hard on Chapter 6 of the Inner Hero book.

Filed under: Creativity, In My Life, Inner Critic, Raw Art Journaling, Recovering Perfectionists, The Writing Life Tagged: contronting the inner critic, creativity coaching, Pauolo Coelho, The Alchemist

Hearing Voices

The place god calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.

–Frederick Buchner

Your Creative Life and the Voice in Your Head

You are creative, even if you don’t think so. But if you tell yourself you aren’t creative, you make it true because once you believe it, you will make others believe it, too. It’s the repetition of the idea that makes it so. Our brain can’t distinguish between what we visualize and what we experience. Ever rehearsed a phone call over and over, and then think you’ve already made it? Our brain believes what we’ve rehearsed.

Cover of The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho

What do we do with this great ability? If you don’t recognize how powerful it is, you ignore it, frequently sabotaging yourself. All of us have the inner critic who chatters along all the time. “You can’t do that.” “Office politics are ruining your life.” “I never get what I want.” So we turn on music or the TV to push the voice out of hearing range. What we don’t do is change what the voice says. So we create a constant noise in our life to cover our own negative self-talk. And that noise won’t let in new ideas, life-changing thoughts or the silence that nourishes our souls.

Be Careful What you Rehearse into Existence

A dozen years ago, while on vacation, I read Paul Coelho’s The Alchemist. It’s a simple story, beautifully written, about changing your life. I loved the story. Something in it seemed real and true. But the instant I admitted to myself I loved the book, the negative voice in my head said, “What a lot of New Age nonsense! You can’t change your life by thinking yourself into a better position. How can you advance if your boss doesn’t like you? She made that cruel remark during the last staff meeting”

That made me think of the ways my colleagues could sabotage me while I was gone. For the rest of my vacation, I replayed this scenario. I arrived home stressed and worried, and discovered that our office space had been reconfigured. I was moved out of my window office into the cube farm.

I wasn’t surprised. I’d been rehearsing it for a week. I took The Alchemist and flipped it open at random, page 20.

“. . . at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what’s happening to us, and [believe] our lives become controlled by fate. That’s the world’s greatest lie.”

The book flipped to page 24.

“The Soul of the World is nourished by people’s happiness. . . . To realize one’s Personal Legend is a person’s only real obligation. All things are one. And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

I sighed. I couldn’t control the office moving. The book was part of vacation—and like vacation, it was over. I threw the book out.

Visualizations Show You the Truth

A few years later, I learned about visualization in a course on leadership. The person guiding the visualization told us to imagine ourselves as leaders five years in the future. I had been sent to this course by my corporation, so I took a deep breath and tried to imagine what my role was in this company. Instead, I saw myself standing at an art fair. It was a sunny, cool day, and I was talking to other artists. We were all laughing. I felt a great sense of peace. When the visualization was over, negative self-talk filled my head. “ What about health insurance? Don’t be irresponsible.” “You sure like those selfish thoughts, don’t you?” “You’d better get your act together.”

Meditation Brings More than Calm

I hated those thoughts. I decided to learn meditation. The basics were simple. Once it got quiet, I recognized the negative chatter in my head belonged to the inner critic. It to reminded me of my shortcomings, that the dryer just quit and clothes need folding, that I was not doing anything and a lot needed doing.

I kept putting aside the chatter; eventually it grew quiet. In the quiet, I began to feel comforted. It took a few months, but once my brain was quiet, the silence opened the door to peace, and after that, good ideas.

Stay tuned for tomorrow, when I take another look at The Alchemist and get serious about the inner critic.

--Quinn McDonald is a writer who has an inner critic. Unfortunately, the inner critic has a large extended family that travels.

Filed under: Creativity, Recovering Perfectionists Tagged: creativity coaching, inner critic, visualization

The All Important Shopping List

On the second Sunday of every month, I guest-host a segment of Rebecca Parsons  Blog-Talk Radio show, Artistically Speaking. Today, Rebecca has Cristin Frank–a DIY genius–on. Cristin runs a blog called Eve of Reduction, about reducing waste, clutter, and too much maintenance.

This is the completed journal page I started yesterday, by applying the weed block background. Today I added a fabric butterfly, raffia stems and a paper cut-out of a sunflower sketch, colored with watercolor pencils and Pitt brush pens.

In today’s interview  Cristin talked about various of her projects, as well as using social media, but the thing that caught my attention was her take on marketing yourself. Cristin suggested focusing on an image you want to create and doing only those projects and activities that support that. She also talked about using a logo and color to identify yourself and then stick to that image and color for all your marketing pieces. It made a lot of sense. (You can listen to Cristin here, use the iTunes directions below).

Cristin’s discussion on marketing made me think about how that idea could also easily be applied to our projects and studio supplies. It’s so easy to take a trip to an art store to pick up something and come home with $60 of materials and 10 ideas, many of which never get done.

Last week, I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from a training session. It was late, and I was really hungry. I over-spent because everything looked good and it was a long time since lunch. We do the same thing in art stores, especially if we go in without a list of supplies.

New supplies, new projects are sparks of light and warmth and we want to fan into a comforting fire, so we buy materials, figuring we’ll get those projects done. But we don’t. Sometimes the bags stay in the car because we are embarrassed to admit we purchased more supplies. Sometimes we convince ourselves we’ll need to do this new project.

Most often, we aren’t exactly clear what the project is. We have a vague idea of something interesting, and buy much more than we need. It’s like a sugar rush–we see the supplies, we have ideas, we feel creatively hungry, we buy the materials, and then we crash–we have so many projects in the works, we don’t have enough time, we don’t really know how to get this done, and the bags get stowed in the back of the closet.

When I went to the fabric store today to buy supplies for a project, I had a list. I also allowed myself one impulse purchase of no more than $5.00. It worked! Before I left home, I thought out the project, made a list of what I needed, bought only that, was charmed by a fabric printed with butterflies, and bought a sample for $2.50. (You can see one of the butterflies in the piece above). I made it back home under budget. And no extra projects that I’ll feel guilty about. Not a bad way to save money, save face, and save time.

This article was sponsored by my word of the year: Let go.

To listen to the show: go to iTunes, click on podcasts, then type “Artistically Speaking Rebecca Parsons” into the search box. You will see a list of two types of podscasts–FAMM and Artistically Speaking. Click on the first Artistically Speaking box in the list and all the recent podcasts will come up, by date. January 13, 2013 is today’s show. It’s free to listen to or download.

—Quinn McDonald is a writer and art journaler who is learning a lot about food, art supplies and impulse.

Filed under: Coaching, Journal Pages, Recovering Perfectionists Tagged: buying art supplies, shopping list, supply list

Weed Barrier Art Journal Background

When the temperature drops in the winter, “cold” is a relative term. In the Sonoran desert, if it drops to freezing, our vegetation starts to die. Some succulents suffer below 40 degrees F, but when it gets below freezing, things get serious. Tonight will dip into the low- to mid-20s, and if that happens, I will lose most of the cactus, succulents, natal plums, Red Honeysuckle, desert bird of paradise, blue agave and aloes. The citrus trees and fig may survive. Last time it was 29 degrees, I lost chunks of cactus and shrubs.

In search of freeze cloth, I went to several places but no luck. Stores don’t stock a lot of it, so it sells out quickly when it gets cold. Since I couldn’t find any, I settled for weed barrier. It was a non-woven fiber, allows some sun to penetrate (great since I have to leave it up for the next four days), and I spent most of the afternoon wrapping cactus and shrubs.

After I was done, I brought the end of the 50-ft roll of weed barrier inside. I cut off a piece and took a look at it. Light cool-gray, light weight, hmmm. it would make a good background for a journal page. Glue will glop it up, so I decided to use fusible webbing to attach it to a free-standing journal page of 140-lb watercolor paper.

Tomorrow, I’m getting some black Misty-Fuse for decoration, but for tonight, I was happy with the result. I’ll also check to see what it takes to write on it. It’s pretty smooth, but it will need a brush or heavy pen to deal with the fibers.

Stay tuned for step two!

–Quinn McDonald has completed the first five chapters of the inner hero book. Three more to go!

Filed under: In My Life, Journal Pages, Nature, Inside and Out Tagged: art journal backgrounds, creative journal backgrounds, mixed media

Setting Limits

The Zumba class was filled with people from teens to seniors. The weights ranged from size 2 to 22. And the instructor, telling us she had lost 50 pounds doing Zumba, ran through the usual warnings–don’t push, don’t do what you can’t do, just keep moving. She then broke into a description of the first dance, it involved slides and hop-hop-hop, and turns and some sort of hand jive.

She faced us and the music began. Most of the people in the class knew this routine. I didn’t. Hands waved, hips tied with jangling belly-dancing scarves pulsed, and the dance was on. I had no idea what to do. My brain has trouble seeing someone facing the class and transferring it to movements facing the teacher. I hop-hop-hopped–right into a woman who was experienced enough to have successfully translated the movements of the instructor.

There were whole routines that I marched through rather than danced through. Sweat began to streak my T-shirt, so I was getting the cardio effect, if not the dance. Truthfully, I felt horrible. Dumb. Clumsy. Heavy.  Slow. But at the end of class, eight people had left and I was still standing.

 woman I met before class, came up and said “Isn’t this the best time ever?” She meant it. Her hip belt jangled with bells and spangles. The flashing spangles matched her eyes. She was thrilled. I felt far from “best time ever.” Too far.

After class, I sat in the car, wishing I could stop at Starbucks for a sugar-laden drink. But sugar is out of my life. It’s off limits. Behind the line. And as I sat there, I decided to move Zumba behind the line, too. Half of being smart is knowing what you are dumb at and not doing it.

In America, the idea is that you can do whatever you put your mind to. You can be whoever you want to be. And I don’t believe that. You can work hard, and you can be determined, but some things aren’t possible for everyone. And after possible, there is the willing. And I am not willing to hire someone to tutor me in Zumba. I don’t think it’s fun. I don’t look forward to it. And in exercise, the key to doing it often is doing something you like. So, with no regret, but a bit of guilt, I moved Zumba behind the limit line.

I am not limitless. But what I want to do is choose what is possible and find the joy in that. I’ve spent too much of my life in grim determination proving I can work as hard as the best, as long as the best, smarter than the best. Determination is a daily tool, but I want to switch the grim to joy.

The gym has a lot to offer me, but Zumba is not part of it. I will find another movement joy, and meanwhile, Zumba and the love of sugar will have to be beyond the limit.

—Quinn McDonald owes a debt of gratitude to her own coach for the metaphor that made her feel successful about giving up Zumba.

Filed under: Coaching, In My Life, Inner Critic Tagged: giving up, setting limits, zumba

Cheesecloth Journaling

The yogurt maker in my kitchen is new. I eat a lot of yogurt, and thought it might be fun to make it myself. So far I’ve made it flavored with orange and lemon zest from our trees, vanilla, nutmeg, and cinnamon. All without any sugar and no added artificial sweetener. The problem (for me, your results may vary) is that if I taste anything sweet, even sweetened with “safe” artificial sweeteners,  I crave sugar. So, the best way for me to avoid sugar is not to eat any. It’s hard, but necessary.

I like the scented yogurts. I add crushed nuts to the nutmeg scented and blueberries to the lemon flavored. But what I love most of all is turning four of the small containers out into a cheesecloth-lined sieve and waiting. In about three hours, I have a sieve full of Greek yogurt.

So why is this called Cheesecloth journaling? Because I have noticed that not all cheesecloth is the same. There is woven and there is knit. And cheesecloth is versatile and excellent for using on journal pages.

The woven cheesecloth looks great on black paper. The stark graphic design allows for busy edges. The cheesecloth on the card is completely flat, held down with matte medium. It looks dimensional, though.

Recently, I’ve lost my heart to knit cheesecloth. It looks like cheesecloth, but it comes in a long tube, and when you dye it, you notice it has stripes. Ink makes a useful dye, so I used it to color up this piece.

Can’t show you what I did with it, not yet. But it goes with one of my inner heroes. And it really transforms a page. You can sew over it to attach it to a page, you can layer the dyed over the white, and you can add random threads over the whole thing. It’s incredibly inexpensive, and it is versatile on the page as in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, I’ve switched to straining the yogurt through a coffee filter, so I can play with more of the cheesecloth. I’ve got priorities, after all.

–-Quinn McDonald is a writer and devotee of homemade yogurt. She wrote 3,000 words today and doesn’t know any more for now.

Filed under: Raw Art Journaling, The Writing Life Tagged: art journaling, cheesecloth for journaling, creativity coach