Art Journal: Thoughts while walking

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I've been thinking about how precious words seem to me. They're important, no doubt. Important and evocative enough for me to want them to be in my artwork. Surely they aren't more or less important than the visual imagery. So, I'm working to get over the preciousness I feel about words.

With this art journal sketch, I've ripped up old dictionary pages and painted over them using colors loosely based on an Anne Ryan collage (the second one with these colors and quite a bit different). Then, I wrote a quick "throw-away" poem, glued that onto the page and splattered paint over that. Liberating!

The poem:

A whiff of Downy fabric softener and then a glimpse of the cabbage patch dolls propped on the neighbor's stoop with plant pots instead of heads mildly interrupted my revery fractions of a second before a round, chubby bug of some sort--too quick and too close to come into focus--slammed into my upper lip with a crunch and a thud. Despite outward appearances, I am not walking alone.