Why Art Journaling Works for Me

I’ve been attempting to get anxious and depressed thoughts out of my brain since the moment I first had them.  I have tried poetry, songwriting, and stream of consciousness writing, among other things.  Any sort of subset of keeping a journal, and I’ve tried it.  None of it has worked.

I used to blame the act itself, but I’ve since realized that it is my brain that is the problem.  As soon as I put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, my unhealthy-brain begins telling me that I’m not good enough.

“That is the dumbest phrase I have ever heard.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Nobody cares.”

A journal is supposed to be your most sacred belonging, one in which you are your most transparent, honest, and brutal self.  I can never get there.

Until now.

You see, take the words out, and my brain shuts the hell up.  I can expel as much anxiety as I can, display my darkest emotions, and be productive.  I can leave these things behind and not feel any misplaced shame.  This, my friends, is the beauty of the art journal.

Give it a shot– just one page of collage or painting or drawing or whatever else you can think of that gets you out of your own head.  Need a little help?  Check this out.



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