“The creative process is a process of surrender, not control.” --Julia Cameron

Life has thrown me some real curveballs in the last few years. Any one of them would have been hard, but taken together... well, let's just say it's been a lot.

I think we have a choice, when hard things happen. We can give in to grief and pain, or we can find the lesson. I didn't have to look very hard for mine.

For most of my life, I was what some might call a control freak - or what I prefer to call a "control enthusiast" (lol). I liked to plan things out, and make sure they were done my way. I felt that mastering life was just a matter of determination and smarts.

Spoiler alert: I was wrong! Thankfully, by the time things fell apart, I had my art practice. Art had already begin to teach me about the importance of letting go. I had learned that when I tried to take charge of my paintings, they never worked out. And I had learned that when I stopped trying so hard, all sorts of wonderful things could happen. 

And so, I began to deliberately develop a painting process that relied on a constant practice of letting go. Letting go of my original ideas, letting go of the way I thought things were going, and letting go of that nice paint effect in the top right hand corner because it was spoiling the composition.

This is why I layer my paintings, and it's why I remove paint with an orbital sander or furniture scraper. I want to allow the accidental effects to lead the way. I want my paintings to take me somewhere new. Most of all I want my paintings to help me learn to allow things to unfold rather than always driving them forward.

As I developed this process, I realised that this idea of "allowing" was more than a way to make paintings. It was also a way to live life. None of us can control the things that happen to us, but perhaps we can learn to accept them. After all, we can't argue with reality, so why try?

Once I realised how interwined my art and life were, I looked for ways to embed this way of thinking and that's when I came up with my journal painting idea.

My journal painting are usually made on unstretched canvas, but I sometimes use Arches Oil paper. I cut a piece of canvas or paper and fasten it to my studio wall. And then, I add something to it each time I am in my studio. That something might be a few written words or a whole layer of paint. I might collage something on, or draw something on, or I might simply press my palette paper onto the canvas before finishing for the day. 
I have absolutely no intention of turning these into anything, so it really doesn't matter what I do. 

And yet, many of these journal paintings have ultimately become finished pieces. Time and again I learn the power of just letting things grow into whatever they are going to be. Time and again, I learn that I do not always know what's best. And time and again, I learn to let go of things that I thought were important.

The journal paintings have improved my art through accidental discoveries, new learnings, and a greater trust in intuition, but they have also improved my life by showing me that I don't always have to steer the boat. Sometimes I can lie back and enjoy the movement that happens without me.

If you struggle with the same things, I encourage you to try this. It really is a relief to stop playing God and just let things evolve naturally.