Art Journal Every Day: "And if I go.."

I actually discovered this poem, Ascension, written by Colleen Corah Hitchcock  from a Tom Clancy book ages ago — and have since kept it as one of my most favorite poems.  Through the years, it has taken on a different meaning to me.  When I first read it, I felt that the poem was speaking to me.  Now as a mother, I feel it’s my voice speaking to my son, Angelo.

I had scribbled this down on a different layout and had left it on my bedside a few days ago.  Angelo had chanced upon it and read it, and he told me he was almost driven to tears reading.  I guess he knew the voice was mine, speaking to him.

I’ve taken to journaling with “no rules” in the past posts, so if you notice, the text is broken without regard for hyphenation.  I fill in the spaces with my words and write spontaneously.  (So sometimes there are actual errors, but so far, haven’t had to scratch out any words.)

I got busy doing more backgrounds over the weekend which I will talk more about in another post, but I also feel bad that my collage on the 2012 Olympics got botched up because I had pasted  the focal point of the piece on the wrong side of the layout.  I’m still trying to decide if I will redo the whole piece since I’m deep into at least two other works in progress.  Maybe another time.. or later.

Meanwhile, still reading up on what other artists or art journalers are doing…  Just a reminder that I’ve started a new page here on the blog entitled “BLOG TRAILS” where I will post links of blogs I frequent or recommend you visit for art inspiration.  I have also started identifying the art supplies I used for each piece and from this post forward, I will write about how I executed the actual journal entry.  (Which I kind of explain below..)

Art Journal Every Day: And if I go..


And if I go,

while you’re still here…

Know that I live on,

vibrating to a different measure

— behind a thin veil you cannot see through.

You will not see me,

so you must have faith.

I wait for the time when we can soar together again,

— both aware of each other.

Until then, live your life to its fullest.

And when you need me,

Just whisper my name in your heart.

I will be there.

Ascension copyright ©1987, Colleen Corah Hitchcock

This is quite reassuring given the uncertainty of life.  It’s a promise to be there forever.  So now when I ask Angelo where Mommy will be when she goes — he points to his heart and says “In here…”


I am sharing my how-to not because I consider this a real work of art, but rather because I did these pieces in a basic, non-artistic way.  I want to show those of you who, like myself, admire the works of the real artists and wish that we could come up with those works of art ourselves that yes, IT CAN BE DONE!!

I used Adirondack Metallic Acrylic Dabber in Copper for Angelo’s silhouette (see a related post here) and Painters Opaque Paint Markers in Pearlescent for the journaling over the black watercolor background.  (Links below)

– I printed the photo of my son’s silhouette and cut out his profile, then traced this in pencil over the black watercolor background.  (Most of my backgrounds are done separately from the actual journal entry, and I have discovered that this actually allows you to work faster (cutting the thinking part for the background) and it spurs different ideas that turn my backgrounds into something totally different.

– Used the Acrylic Paint Dabber to paint the silhouette and then let it dry.

– Used the Acrylic Paint markers for the journalling.  VOILA!


If you want to see more of my Art Journal, please click here, or you can always choose my Art Journal Every Day page from the list on the top left of the blog page.

I invite you to view the Flickr Group dedicated to this endeavor by clicking here, and be inspired to create your own art journal. (Artistic talent optional.)

Happy birthday, Dad

My father passed away two years ago, a week after his birthday, which is today.  I miss him dearly, and I often think of him.  Many people who knew him used to tell me when I was younger that I was just like him.

I was the closest to him and yet our relationship was strained.  As I used to say to my half-sister who nursed a lot of hurt in her heart for my Dad and her Mom’s shortcomings as far as she was concerned, Dad loved her — it’s just that he didn’t know how to show it the way we would have wanted him to show it.

I was the favorite — when everyone else refused to speak with him, they made me face him and negotiate with him.  When he was dying, they called me from his deathbed and I told him between sobs that I was not mad at him, that I loved him.  His death was expected but it hurt me deeply when I got the news.

There is so much that I want to say to him now and I know he would listen silently, furrow his brows, and if I unloaded my burden to him, I know he would just keep silent and listen.  He would understand.

I would normally have wished that I was there to take care of him, but his final days were full of strife and pain.  I guess in a selfish way, it was good that we were oceans apart.  Less angry words were said although there were angry words exchanged.

I’m just glad he’s at peace now.  I know that wherever he is, he isn’t having difficulty breathing — he isn’t in pain.  Knowing that makes it easier to accept that he is gone.  And whatever sins he had committed, he has been forgiven.

I miss hearing his voice — and hearing his laughter.  I have many snapshots of him in my mind I keep going back to.  And even in my grief, he makes me smile when I remember his antics and his jokes and the happy times.  I dwell on the happy rather than the sad.  There is enough sadness knowing he is no longer here with me.  At least when I stick with the happy memories, my heart smiles, and it helps me deal with the grief better.

Happy birthday, Dadang.  I know you know we all love you deeply… and we always will.  I know now that my fears as a child that I would end up in heaven and you would be in the other place are unfounded.  I know you will be there to meet me when my turn comes to go into the light.

Art Journal Every Day: I miss you, Papa…

Art Journal Every Day: I miss you, Papa

“Those we love don’t go away,

they walk beside us everyday.

Unseen, unheard but always near,

Still loved, still missed and very dear.”

If you want to see more of my Art Journal, please click here, or you can always choose my Art Journal Every Day page from the list on the top left of the blog page.

I invite you to view the Flickr Group dedicated to this endeavor by clicking here, and be inspired to create your own art journal.  (Artistic talent optional.)