Earlier this week, when I was in Prescott, I taught a group of college students how to make art postcards. These were not art students. What I loved about the class was the spirit of adventure, the interest in trying out new ideas.
I brought a lot of inks, loaded into spray bottles. The instructions were simple: spray ink on the postcard, find an emotional map in the spray, and create the map. For the second card , there were books and magazines piled on the table for found poetry.
Here is a random sampling of cards. It’s amazing what happens when the door to the imagination opens up–even for just half a day.
Poem: “But I don’t want to arrest the laughter and music cracking open the heart of my impulse. Things go wrong, killed by a sensitive something. I was inadequate, loving you.”
Poem: “There was no formal announcement made. Pierre here will tell you/ to stand quite silent and listen. Each visitor moved away, cramped and useless and burdened.”
–-Quinn McDonald teaches raw art journaling–the work that makes meaning. The work that often never gets farther than the heart, but the work that creates a full and rich life.