An Artist? Who? Where?

I had vowed to myself on Friday afternoon - sitting at a red light - seeing the aftermath of a terrible accident on the bridge going over the Back Bay that once my errands were completed I was staying at my art table all weekend. Art is what makes me happy. It defines me.
Or does it?
I awoke on Saturday questioning who I was. An artist? Me? Oh, I dunno. I dabble. I play. I have fun with it. But other people I know are true ARTISTS.

And I found every excuse I could to NOT make art. Vacuuming the already spotless carpet. Preparing things for veggie sandwiches for dinner. Hell, I even made a Jello fruit salad. Pathetic!
I blogged about 'sounds' in the 'hood. Read friends blogs. Wrote emails about nothing in particular. Chair danced to 60s music on iTunes...

Finally I knew I had to create something, because I didn't feel like doing anything!

This is when I fully realized the VALUE of VISUAL JOURNALS.
Playing in my journal doodling with images and words. Expressing myself. Ha!
It was then I felt my spirit lifted. It was then I acknowledged to myself... I am an ARTIST!

(Another page from my junk mail journal. The word SHUTDOWN, the words LIFT YOUR SPIRIT, and the image of the window with the ocean view are all from junk mail I found in my mailbox this past week. Art is all around us. No excuses. Go. Make. Art.)