Finding My Way Back to Center Through Art
I went back and forth about whether to share this page. It’s deeply personal—one of those pieces that comes from a place you can’t quite put into words. For several days, it sat on my worktable. It felt raw … maybe too raw. In the end, I realized that’s exactly why I needed to make it. And maybe, why I should share it too.
This page grew from a short video by Dina Wakley, whose mix of honesty and courage always resonates with me. In that video, she built a page around a few lines from Mary Oliver. That’s how I ending up searching for more of Mary’s work on Instagram and stumbled onto the poem that became the heart of my page—one that gripped me and wouldn’t let go:
“Someone I onced loved
Gave me a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
That this, too, was a gift.”
When I read those words, I felt them in my chest. My relationship with my dad was complicated for years. We reconciled long ago, but his recent passing brought up a flood of memories — good and hard — that I probably should have expected, but wasn’t at all prepared for. Somehow, these lines spoke to all of it at once: grief, forgiveness, and the strange gift of time.
I knew at that moment that those words were meant for me to see at that very moment in time when I needed to hear them. And, I knew that I was going to use Dina’s video as inspiration. The paint and stencils took over. The background of my brown kraft journal became a swirl of Turquoise, Sapphire and hints of Stoked, dotted with little bursts of Gnarly light. The birds were die-cute from one of Dina’s collage book pages — maybe symbols of love, release, or flight. I typed Mary Oliver’s words onto notebook paper using my cherished vintage type writer (see that story in my Designer Gallery).
When I finished, I sat back and thought, “There you are.” The page said everything I couldn’t. It made me cry. That ugly cry.
Later, a quiet question surfaced: what would this feel like digitally? Could I echo that same tenderness in Photoshop—layering color and texture on a screen instead of paper? Not as a replacement for traditional art journaling, but as an extension of it. A different way to tell the same story.
I’ve started gently. Nothing polished or ready to share — just a few textures and soft brushes on a blank canvas, seeing how the feeling might translate. Very quickly I realized this isn’t about replication at all; it’s about translation. Paint behaves one way, pixels another. Both can be honest.
I don’t know where it will lead yet. But even these small steps reminded me why I art journal in the first place: creativity helps me breathe.
Want to Follow This Little Experiment?
If the idea of digital art journaling speaks to you, I’ll share updates as this piece evolves—from paint to pixels and whatever comes next.
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Thank you, Vicki, for such a heartfelt message and beautiful journal page.
These helped me. I lost my husband one month ago, after 65 years.
Our cat slep on his Hospice bed, and when my husband’s body was removed, he ran after them squalling. Kitty was on meds for anxiety. He was 23, and getting old and not being able to climb trees and do young kitty things made him anxious. However, after my husband died, his anxiety levels were sad. I took him to the vet and he died peacefully. My world shook with violent tears for days.
Your comments helped me. Thank you so much.
I am looking forward to working on pages for them both.
Thank you. Thank you.
Dear Vicki,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and your journal in process. I have started working on a digital album for my Dad (who passed away a few years ago). Fortunately, his youngest sister created an album for him (and the rest of her siblings) with pictures starting when he was very young.
Sending hugs and love to you.
Tawnya
I’m so glad you’re working on an album for your Dad … its so important to keep all those memories alive! Big hug!
Dear Vicki
Thank you for sharing your most intimate thoughts and feelings. You are very brave to put this out there. I emphathise with what you have said on many levels.
The words of the poem went straight into the depths of my heart and soul as they speak so accurately about a relationship which is over but with which I am still grappling to come to terms with. I have a longing to express my feelings in Art but have not done any creative work for many years so I am struggling to find the right medium in which to work.
Your article is so genuine that it has helped me already, I know I shall eventually find my path in Art.
I retired from work 5 months ago and moved inland to live in Underberg in the Drakensberg mountains of South Africa, a place of great healing and beauty for me.
With much appreciation
Susan King
Thank you so much, Susan, for your kind words. I’m so sorry that you are struggling. May I take the liberty of suggesting that you “just start” with whatever media you have right now close at hand. Eventually, you’ll settle on what really works for you, but for now it’s more important to just do SOMETHING. One of my favorite sayings is “Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can” — I find I rely on those words when I’m stuck. You live in a beautiful location, so perhaps let nature be your guide and your refuge. Thanks so much for reading my post, and please feel free to write if you just want to chat. xo
Hi Mis Vicki,
Thank you for sharing your beautiful words and art—they truly inspire me.
Yes, it’s hard to lose someone you love, but know they are forever watching over you.
I have always admired you and your scrapbooking classes. I was going from photobook to Scrapbooking. Had no idea what to do or how to get started. Game across NAODS via Facebook. You made the classes fun and exciting, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
I’m sure your father is smiling as he watches over you and the joy, the knowledge, and laughter you bring to all.
Thank you
Cynthia, thank you so much. You have no idea how much your words mean to me. I’m so happy we’ve connected through art. Bug hug! xoxo