Tag Archive | Art

Elevator fear 🖤 {another dream}

This is an image I created using AI 🖤 I made it to represent my elevator fear and dreams

Content warning ⚠️: claustrophobia, brief mention of s*icidal ideation and self injury, but the self injury isn’t in a “depressed kind of way,” but a result of panic

This post was meant for yesterday!

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life 🖤

I’m going to share my nightmare while I was asleep but first will give it context by explaining my claustrophobia.

I shared here before about my lifelong struggle with debilitating Claustrophobia, actual diagnosed Claustrophobia, particularly fear of elevators. I have struggled with it since I was a little girl for an unknown reason. I used to run up 20 floors just to avoid getting into elevators, but in some buildings stairs going up are blocked off. Just walking by an elevator or having to go into a building knowing they’re in there, would be enough to experience intense fear. Sometimes being in an elevator I would go into such a panic, I would claw myself up with my fingernails until my skin bled, just out of a sense of not knowing what to do.

When I was young, I mostly could avoid elevators so it wasn’t as much a problem except on school trips and visiting people in hospitals. That was challenging. Also as a college girl, sometimes I had to get into elevators to get to class. I was embarrassed and insecure about my claustrophobia as a young girl. I did not know it’s a disorder or a defined thing. I thought it meant I’m wimpy. I was impressed when other kids could get into elevators and not be scared. I thought they were braver than me. I now know this isn’t true. Claustrophobia is an anxiety disorder and doesn’t mean someone is weak or not brave. As a girl, I used to daydream that I got into elevators with no fear, and I longed to be this brave for real.

I am one of the phobia sufferers who would often face my fear and get into an elevator anyway and just suffer. I wouldn’t have a positive mindset about it. Many phobia sufferers cannot face the fear and will always avoid the source at all costs. It’s a cruel irony, as I have said before, to have to come face to face with the very thing we fear most, to get over it.

I “cured” it myself after trying out professional exposure therapy and seeing it just wasn’t needed for me; I could handle it on my own. I did use the exposure technique but on my own without the help of a therapist any longer. My claustrophobia was so severe and crippling, it would trigger s*icidal episodes. It’s a very powerful breathtaking fear. It’s so powerful, it inspires awe in me to get to experience something so profound. It’s one of the most intense feelings there is, and not everyone gets to experience something so powerful in that way. I don’t like it, but still intrigued by it and thankful for the experience. It reminds me of love even though it’s not pleasant, the intensity of it can be the same, like so strong, it could move mountains.

It got better, but then I suffered a relapse at the end of 2017 after making the mistake of watching the numbers and waiting for the doors to open. It seemed to take a fraction of a second too long, which made me crumble in terror. This is when I began the exposure therapy. When I first got better, it was after getting used to getting into elevators with a dog. Then eventually I could alone. For a while, I would imagine the dog in there with me even when she wasn’t. That helped. I did not have to get into elevators as much anymore so got unaccustomed to it after the relapse. Then I had to again and could not handle it. So I began organized exposure therapy and meditation. The Philadelphia Eagles won the Superbowl in 2018. Their motto leading up to it was Let us prey. I adopted this saying and attitude as my mantra and way of coping with my Claustrophobia. I chose to prey upon the fear instead of allowing the fear to prey upon me.

I’m not cured. I still have it. It’s just dormant. I can still always feel it beneath my surface and know that it can come back. It’s slightly threatening. I know it’s here possibly waiting to be unleashed. This is true even when I’m calm as can be closed inside an elevator. Sometimes this knowing is more intellectual, and other occasions it’s more a feeling with body and emotion. I don’t mind this. I just peacefully coexist with it. I have to keep getting into elevators to keep myself used to it. If I ever stop, it will come back. Some days just for no particular reason, I feel a flare up and avoid them if I can because I know not to push myself; that isn’t the same as having an active phobia and avoiding them when I have to encounter them to get better. But that’s seldom. Also, if I’m anxious about something else or am dehydrated (dehydration gives me anxiety in a physiological way, not anxious thoughts, but just a feeling of anxiety and physical symptoms), my claustrophobia will flare, not a full on relapse, just a flare. The anxiety of dehydration will latch onto thoughts about being stuck in an elevator and manifest as claustrophobia.

My claustrophobia was always present even being inside an elevator with people. But eventually I stopped being afraid as long as people were inside with me or a dog was. The thought of being trapped inside with a dog or other human stopped terrifying me, just being alone did. Even now, I wouldn’t be afraid or only slightly if an elevator wouldn’t open with a dog and me or another human and me. Before, that would have still sent me off the deep end. Even if it locked with just me now, I can handle it, I think, as long as I don’t have a relapse.

Since I was a little girl into adulthood, I have been plagued by recurring nightmares of being stuck in an elevator. In my dreams it’s an old familiar fear, as if I have been stuck in one before, like a knowing feeling, an intimate knowing, like oh this again. This again. Each dream brought with it the same old feeling, like an underlying thread connecting all the dreams together even spanning over years, decades. Like in each dream it was as if I remembered all the dreams before it, not necessarily consciously remembered, but knew on some level that this keeps happening, but in the dreams, it felt more like they were reality than a dream. Almost like I’m stuck in another world where I am sentenced to getting stuck in elevators again and again and again. Like Groundhog day lol Sometimes I would have multiple elevator dreams in one night. The dreams all start out like regular life, I’m going about my day then must get into an elevator then It happens. My worst nightmare.

This again.

It happens in all different ways, but it’s all the feeling of absolute dread where I just know. I know I am not getting out of here.

I stopped having them for so long.

Until last night.

No idea why, but last night, I had another elevator nightmare. I can’t remember when I last had one. I’m not anxious, and my claustrophobia isn’t relapsing.

But last night I had a dream that I was about to get into an elevator. There was a friendly, smiling petite woman already inside holding the doors for me. I remember her so vividly. She was pale skinned and around my age, maybe a bit older, around as tall as me, maybe slightly shorter, and she was slightly thinner than me. She had what may be called strawberry blonde hair, mouth length. She was wearing a navy blue and white striped long sleeved shirt. The stripes were thin. I don’t remember her pants. She wasn’t physically beautiful but not ugly, but she was beautiful on the inside. What some may call mousy or plain in appearance, but she had a cuteness about her, a humble prettiness. She was very sweet and friendly with a gentle air about her.

We both happened to be going to the 14th floor in whatever building it was. I have no idea why we were there. She was delighted and pushed the button for us both. She had a compassionate, warm, welcoming personality, like she never met a stranger, like she may have been open to developing a friendship or at least an acquaintanceship with me, just in that mundane encounter where most wouldn’t even give each other so much as a glance. It was like when she looked at me, she saw me. Not the way strangers around look up and quickly look away. It wasn’t her words that allowed me to know her nature, but her body language, her facial expressions, her energy, her actions, her smile. I remember her warm energy.

We got to the 14th floor, and the elevator sped past and went to the 17th floor and stopped and wouldn’t open. When it went past the 14th, we both knew. We knew It was happening.

It.

It with a capital “I.”

I’m covered in head to toe chills just writing this. The fear and the knowing in the dream were not normal. We were doomed and knew it in a way that people in reality wouldn’t know it. It’s a kind of knowing, a kind of knowing fear that only exists in dreams or nightmares. Sure, real people who are rational may be anxious but wouldn’t already be in despair and *know* they will be stuck forever or die. We did know, and we were in despair. Real people would be thinking like let’s see how to get this fixed or hopefully this opens or what is going on or thinking we have to call for help or wait for someone to let us out…we had no hope and did not have to wonder, we were doomed. There was no one coming to let us out. And we knew. We knew the very split second that elevator sped past floor 14. The woman gasped and said something I can’t remember, and I stood there paralyzed in that old familiar intimate crippling panic. It was happening again. IT.

The elevator just froze there at the 17th floor. I was panicked that we were stuck. Then I suddenly realized we had a bigger problem than just being stuck. I realized being stuck at floor 17 means being stuck in the air, that high up. Just hanging in midair. I imagined it dropping and us falling to our deaths. Suddenly, as if to hear my thoughts and wanting to taunt, it began to go down very quickly. I wasn’t sure if we were dropping to our deaths or it would land safely, but I knew either way, we weren’t getting out of there, and so did she. Suddenly it began dropping faster and making loud noises and lighting up, then it began going back up and then down then back up, the flashing lights getting more and more intense. All the numbers were lighting up. The whole situation felt aggressive, like the elevator was consciously attacking us. Like it was out to get us.

The woman was screaming and had her head down, covering it with her arms in a defensive stance, as if to protect herself against whatever blows were to be coming to her. I wasn’t screaming or doing anything (typical of me in reality also), but my fear very much matched hers. The top of the elevator began to open up, and we both eagerly looked up to see if maybe, just maybe, there was a way to climb up and get out. There wasn’t. We saw something, I can’t remember what, that we both knew meant it was a hopeless situation for us. We looked at each other, her face contorted into a mask of horror and despair and a desperate pleading look. The crashing noises got louder, the lights more flashy, the elevator began to close in on us as we both got into the self defensive position and moved closer to each other, then clinging to each other knowing our end was very near.

Then I woke up.

And that’s that. lol

First thing this morning, I had to get on an elevator by myself for work. And I remembered this dream as the doors were closing on me. So that was fun. lol 😆

I have been having very vivid dreams lately. I always have but not as much as years ago when I was young, and I don’t remember them as much as I used to. But recently I have been having very detailed dreams that I remember. I generally don’t have unpleasant dreams.

I love that my mind made this character up and brought her to life so vividly. She wasn’t anyone I ever knew for real. I’m not sure how true it is, but I read before that our brain doesn’t make up faces, that if we dream a face very clearly, like my situation here, it means we necessarily saw that face before in real life, maybe even decades ago. It may not have been that person in our dream, just their face. So like this woman’s face could have been my 5th grade teacher’s (in fact thinking back, I think they did have a similar face, build, hair style…and she was warm, sweet, friendly, and around that age maybe lol) even if she wasn’t that person/my teacher in my dream. It was so creative of me lol 😂

This is probably strange, but I kind of feel sorry for her. She was so real, and whatever happened to us, I got to wake up, but it was her ending. Not that it was real. But there is a lingering feeling that I got to be the lucky one who escaped because I get to be the real one, flesh and blood, who gets to wake up and continue being. Also, there was a hint of guilt because it’s my brain that created that world and that dire situation for that character. lol I should probably stop now before I sound batsh!t. 😂

Anyone want to share an interesting dream experience/recurring dream/insight on dreams or anything, go ahead! Or even just your most recent dream you can remember, if there’s one. I would love to read! Dreams are so interesting! I’m especially interested in how, like I said, these dreams are like all linked with an underlying thread and how in dream world, we can know things in a way we wouldn’t in reality. Like we just knew we weren’t getting out of that elevator, not in a negative thinking kind of way but true knowing. In reality if the elevator sped past the 14th floor, most people’s initial reaction would probably be confusion. Like WTF or what’s going on. Our initial reaction was knowing. Then panic.

I don’t mind these dreams/nightmares. They are not pleasant but are fascinating. I am more intrigued than disturbed.

I hope you are having a beautiful day or night wherever in the world you are! And sweet dreams tonight lol 😆

Xoxo Kim ❣️

Amber 🖤 {a poem – inspired by my true experience}

This photo above is my glitch art. I made it myself. It’s created with a tool called pixel sorting or processing. I thought it seems fitting for the dark poem ahead. 😁

And when I say dark, I do mean dark. LoL 😆

(In my last post, somewhat recently, I mentioned that I was going to share my experience with love & rejection as my next post. I’m still going to share that soon, but it’s not done yet. It’s complete but needs editing and stuff. It’s super long and detailed, and just needs more time. But I want to share this now.)

This is an old poem I wrote, inspired by my true experiences. I wrote it around fifteen years ago. I have always loved poetic writing, just for myself. I never shared much of it, just once in a while on an old blog or something. Once in a blue moon, I get in the mood to write creative/poetic things. I had so many through the years and lost most of them when my old phones crashed that I had them saved on. I prefer writing and saving on phones/electronic devices than notebooks. When I see they are breaking, I quickly save as much as I can. I guess I need a better system!

Losing years and years of my work was devastating. It triggered a depressive episode. After the depressive episode ended, I still couldn’t bring myself to think about writing new stuff after all the old stuff got lost. I have written more recent stuff after a while. It wasn’t necessarily good, and wasn’t for publishing or anything, but it was work I was happy to have for myself, things inspired by my real experiences.

This poem is one of the very few surviving old ones.

Content warning ⚠️: dark poetry – mental health issues

I mostly only like writing dark/serious poetry, and that is my favorite kind to read. I love happy, cheerful stuff in general, but artistic stuff and poetry, I love dark/creepy the best, usually.


This poem is called Amber.

It is dark and disturbing, heavy content, not everyone’s style.

Here goes!

I hear her loud screams
Through the night
As the walls shake
To the sound
That reverberates
Through severed veins
Managed to be sewn
Back together
After fountains of scarlet
Pouring out
Like red wine
Tainting everything it touches

My room is almost empty
The girl who was beside me
Night after night
Has been taken away
Her clothes and things
Packed up and moved
To another place
Her arms and legs
Now in thick metal shackles
To match the invisible ones
Chaining her
To some secret hell
No one else can touch

Now I am left alone
With Amber’s psychotic
Ramblings
And violent screams
That echo through me
Like broken galaxies
Lost in the endless darkness
Of space
They stick needles into her arms
While she protests
Violently kicking and thrashing
Convulsing
She is dragged to the quiet room
Just across the hall
Where she is alone
And drifts into a deep, dark sleep
But not for long
Soon enough
She is awake
With her hysterical sobs
And her dark fears
The voices scream at her
Inside her head
I hear them too
I can feel them pulsing
Through my own body
Malicious
Demanding
Persecuting
As I sit on the edge of my bed
And stare up at the white ceiling
And blank walls
Wondering
How this place got so large
It seems to expand before my eyes
Limitless spaciousness
The vastness is almost unbearable
Making me dizzy
As the voices grow louder
More threatening
As they bounce off the walls
And back
But they all pretend they can’t hear
All they hear are her agonized screams
Through the night
That pound through my head
Her dark hair
Messy and scraggly
Her eyes filled
With dark horror
As she claws at her own face

Somewhere I know
There is a girl
Deep within her
Buried
Beneath layers and layers
Of pain, despair, fear
And screaming voices
A girl who needs and yearns
And loves
But the strange voices
Drown out her own voice
Quiet it
Until it almost seems not to exist
But I feel her
Deep within me
Her light
Dim and flickering
But still present
The doctors and nurses
And the technicians
Come into my room
Again and again
Telling me to turn off the light
Get to sleep
To forget about Amber
But the voices
Won’t let me sleep
Amber’s voices
Clash with my own
And become a choir
Of haunting screams
Something deep within me
Implodes
Like empty rooms
With walls
Closing in
Suddenly, this place
Isn’t so large anymore
It’s small and stuffy
Claustrophobic
My walls close in
And my breath quickens
Along with my pulse
Fear paralyzes me
And I can’t scream
But her screams
Still blast through me
Like the moon exploding
In a dark sky
And I get cut
On the hot celestial shards
My skin bleeds
And my heart pounds
And I am dragged away
Into a deep, dark place
Where there is nothing
But loud
Agonizing
Screams
And voices
That never sleep
Echoing all
Throughout a night
That never seems to end

I hope you are having a beautiful day or night wherever in the world you are!

If you have any creative writing of your own you would like to share in the comments, be my guest! 😁

Xoxo Kim ♥️

Terminus {a novel} ❤️

This is a picture I made. It’s a pic of a real cemetery near where I live and I edited it to make it extra creepy. Those are real cemetery stones! It was taken in the daylight and I made it look like night. The apparitions are not real. 🤣

There’s a novel called, “Terminus,” about an angel who falls in love with a human, which is forbidden, according to the spiritual world. He would have to give up being an angel and become human to stay with her, which they don’t encourage in his realm. He meets her in an operating room when her little girl dies on the operating table. He knows the child is going to die and has to show up just before, to escort her soul to the afterlife when it leaves her body. No one in the operating room can see him or knows he’s there except the little girl after her body dies. He stands there as the doctors are working to keep her alive. He sees the crying woman at her daughter’s side and falls in love with her instantly. This is what he thinks when he sees the woman:

“The auburn hair falling over emerald eyes shimmering with tears made her look achingly beautiful.”

He makes the mistake of touching her(it’s a loving, spiritual thing, not a pervy thing lol). She doesn’t understand exactly what happened but she’s suddenly & momentarily filled with joy at the touch of an angel. Then later she meets him again in his human form when she’s s*icidal and recognizes him even though she did not see him in that operating room. The love story is only part of the whole book; it’s a mystery thriller where a few people’s lives are all connected somehow and something big & bad is going to happen if the angel doesn’t stop it. The angel doesn’t know what is going to happen, just that something is, and the woman he’s in love with is meant to die for the greater good but he doesn’t want her to and instead of aiding in her death like he’s meant to, he keeps intervening and saving her life, which is against the rules in his spiritual realm.

Anyway, I want to share a scene in the book I love!

Matthew is a little boy and Riley is his puppy. His puppy gets hit by a car and is dying and the angel, Nick, witnesses and heals the puppy instantly, even though he’s not really allowed. Angels have healing power but are only allowed to use it under certain circumstances. The angel, Nikolai or Nick, is very human-like.

“Matthew fell to his knees, crying. Riley had been hit and was gasping her final breaths—something Nick was all too familiar with. Matthew looked at his puppy, his face all tears and dirt and heart-wrenching despair. ‘I’m sorry, Riley! This is all my fault!’

‘It’s not, Matthew. Not your—’

‘I let her out without me. Oh, Riley…Riley, please don’t die!’ He turned back to Nick. ‘I messed up—I always mess up! That’s why Mommy and Daddy don’t want me.’

‘That’s not true!’

Nick made up his mind. The laws about unassigned healings couldn’t be so inane as to apply to animals. And if they did, he didn’t care. He knelt down and placed his hands around Riley’s head. His entire body tingled with a pulsating light that started from his heart and radiated to his fingertips, which glowed as he pressed them gently against the puppy’s furry brow. He shut his eyes. Connected with Riley’s soul. It surprised him, how deep was the love a puppy felt for her master, how intense the memories. But there they were, strong as any human’s if not stronger. He had to take care not to send too much light into so young a puppy. A tear slid down Nick’s cheek. Joy and sadness.

‘Get up, Riley,’ he whispered. The light left him. The puppy’s breathing returned to normal, and she lifted her head.

‘Riley?’ Matthew’s face was alight with joy and wonder. ‘Riley!’ She rolled to her feet and let out a happy bark. Tail wagging furiously, she leapt into Matthew’s arms and proceeded to bathe his face with puppy kisses. Matthew finally managed to lower her enough to look up at Nick.

‘Wow, mister! That was awesome!’

‘Be careful crossing the street, okay?’

‘Thanks for fixing up Riley. She’s good as new.'” ❤️

Xoxo Kim

Got anxiety? 💜


Got anxiety? 💜

(Caution ⚠️ Someone messaged me and said this video I made triggers headaches in some so please watch with Caution or not at all if you have any health issues that may be triggerd – I did put a caution even before someone said that because things like this can trigger sensory issues and seizures in some and probably various other things as well)

Just watch this video I made with glitchlabapp , mirrorlabapp , and movee and take deep, slow breaths. Breathe in slowly, through the nose for four seconds (1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, 4 Mississippi) while the abdomen expands. Hold for seven seconds (1 Mississippi-7 Mississippi), then breathe out even more slowly, through the mouth, for eight seconds while the ab gets flat. Focus on breath and when the mind wanders, gently bring it back to breath. It will wander even for those experienced with meditation & breathwork. I would recommend bending your arms at the elbows and squeezing shoulder blades together if you’re physically able to and safely, before beginning the exercise. It opens up the airways/chest and makes breathing easier. Also, for those inexperienced, it’s easiest to lay down and hardest to be standing.

This often works instantly to calm down or feel a sense of inner peace, stop tremors, and heart racing, even if not done properly. Takes practice and persistence to get it down perfectly. But all it takes is a few seconds for results. May not work for everyone.

Anyone with sensory issues or seizure issues or any other extra/special needs maybe shouldn’t watch this video and anyone with physical limitations or pain maybe shouldn’t try the shoulder blade exercise. These things should only be done if you know you can do them safely.

Anxiety can be a fullblown disorder or just a mood we all experience on occasion throughout life. It can be mild to severe and can manifest in various ways, physical sensations, tremors, feelings of fear or panic, heart palpitations, difficulty sleeping, a deathly feeling…it’s different on different occasions and different for everyone and it’s never pleasant and is very, very common.

Sending love, peace, & light to all, xoxo 💛🕉

I hope you are having a beautiful day or night wherever in the world you are!

Xoxo Kim

Healing Anxiety Activity🖤

This is an Instagram post of mine I’m sharing here!

This is not a good picture but it’s the concept I’m sharing. Five years ago, I lost my close friend, who was my coworker, unexpectedly, to a heart attack or sudden cardiac arrest, whatever the correct term is. Anyway, her heart just stopped out of nowhere and she collapsed to the floor and died. It wrecked & traumatized my whole world. I developed anxiety that I never had before. Not a fullblown condition but I would have sudden, insense anxiety/fear, out of the blue. Very difficult to endure. Not panic attacks but still a sense of panic. It was not interfering with life in general but definitely with my sleep and peace of mind. Not anxious thoughts usually, but anxious sensations. Bolts of fear surging through me and gripped in panic along with a couple anxious thoughts sometimes. Through the years those anxiety episodes have lessened but I still experience them. They are no longer about Diane’s death, exactly, but still rooted in that. Recently, I experienced a tragic pet loss and because of the circumstances, that fear has been coming back more again, in waves, and interfering with my sleep. My heart pounds when I’m laying as if I was running a marathon. And my insides are like in turmoil. It’s all day but worse at night. The way I see anxiety in my head is like small, sharp, gray/silver balls of activity wreaking havoc on my insides. Sometimes I imagine the balls of anxiety and visualize white or golden light around them, absorbing them into it until they are gone and only light remains. I decided to draw a picture of my imagination. I don’t draw or anything and not creative but decided to give it a try. I drew the balls in pencil then erased them til they became lighter, as if to lose much of their power, then colored them in yellow. I also wrote the word anxiety at the top and erased it then wrote inner peace over it. I colored around the paper in purple because purple/lavendar is soothing to look at and lavendar scent can have a calming effect. The pencil isn’t scented though. This is symbolic of healing anxiety. 💜💛 It’s a fun and soothing activity!

I hope you are having a beautiful day or night wherever in the world you are! It’s Morning here in Philadelphia, Pa, USA! 💛

xoxo Kim

Beauty and the Artist

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“Beauteous art, brought with us from heaven,
will conquer nature; so divine a power 
belongs to him who strives with every nerve.

If I was made for art, from childhood given 
a prey for burning beauty to devour,
I blame the mistress I was born to serve.”
~ Michelangelo Buonarroti ❤

I found this beautiful quote in the novel, "The Agony and the Ecstasy" by Irving Stone.

It's a great quote which I interpret to be about his natural ability to be able to create artistic things, which he further develops through practice. He has a hunger for beauty and to create beautiful things through sculpting. I think his mistress is his untamed passion to create, his rapacious desire for beauty and art.

It’s really more like he is the prey to beauty; it seeks him out to wildly consume him, something that seems beyond his control. An urge, a pull, an immense craving he cannot resist. It overpowers him but in a beautiful way.

However it's meant to be interpreted, it flows so wonderfully and is full of passion and life.

It's beautiful to be so hungry, so full of desire and along with it, have the courage to act on it and the skills to succeed how we intend to.

Do you have an interpretation of this quote? If you want, share it here!

I hope you are having a beautiful day or night wherever you are!:-D

Much love to you,

xoxo Kim ❤

Random Inspiration #10 {old memories and what to do with ugly/plain/useless photos you take}

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Sometimes I take pictures that turn out not that good, blurry or ugly or boring or plain looking, too dark, too bright, seemingly having no point…I usually have the urge to delete them.

But not so long ago, I got a better idea. 

I can “recycle” them in a way, I guess you can say. Get creative and fix them up and make them pretty or more interesting. 

I can do things with the pictures that will make them look good that would ruin other pictures.

Example:

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Look at this terrible picture! Ack! I want to delete it right now! I meant for it to be a lovely view of the Philadelphia skyline at night but it sucks instead. No hope for it…

Unless!

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Now it’s pretty, right?!

I think so! But even if you still think it’s just kind of useless or sucks, you still get the picture, right?

You can take a sucky photo and prettify (or creepify) it. Imagine if I took a beautiful picture and then put that heart on it like that? It would ruin it!

But this picture already sucks so the heart can’t ruin it! And you can still see part of the skyline and I think the heart makes it look even better.And the colors pop more The heart is the main thing now but then we catch a glimpse of the buildings and lights in the background! Perfect!

Or you can make a sucky picture look creepy, like with my pic of the door above. That was just a simple pic of a door I took that had no use (the pic had no use, not the door) so I put a weird creep effect on it!

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I like this one. Sometimes I’m in the mood for making my pictures cheery and pretty and colorful while other occasions I want them seeming dark, nostalgic, hazy, blurry, creepy, sad-like, vintage, shadowy…
This one is on the dark side.

Heres’s the original :

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And here’s another pic I made fantastic when it was just kind of blah originally:

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Original:

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I actually like this one too but can see how it’s kind of plain. It’s interesting though. It’s a University of Pennsylvania building. The campus is beautiful. This is the medical examiner’s office, where they do autopsies and examine corpses and stuff.

And here are some more pics of mine that weren’t that good and I fixed them up:

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Lol the heater at work. I made it look like I was having some dance party with strobe lights. I only took the pic to test my phone because it wasn’t working correctly. I took the picture last year and just found it in my phone recently.

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Library on Temple University campus. I used to go to school here. I took this pic a few nights ago as I was going by.
I love when I see the campus again. I don’t see it frequently and whenever I do so many emotions come flooding back to me.
Both happy and sad ones, feelings of longing and feelings of joy. Nostalgia and happiness and gratitude.
i embrace them all.
It’s so familiar yet so distant now. I know it so well, so intimately, yet I feel as if I would probably get lost walking on there again.
That is so strange to feel.
i am never quite prepared for the feelings I experience when seeing the campus again and reminiscing.
I loved walking all around the campus day or night. When I had breaks in the middle classes

sometimes I would walk around the same buildings over and over and over, loving every single second of it. I would explore the entire campus by myself. And I would get there early just to have breakfast and iced coffee and just to walk around campus in the early morning before class.
It’s there and then that I learned to love my own company. I was always afraid to do things, go places alone, not because of social anxiety but because of my depression and certain painful memories I have. I dreaded long breaks in the middle of classes and it hurt me to see girls alone drinking coffee or eating or reading, it stirred feelings of horror and despair in me because of certain of my own experiences but I took the chance, the risk, and embraced my physical aloneness and came to welcome it and love iit.

Sometimes I still get those old feelings and fear of aloneness but then I remember my strength I found on campus in college.

I loved those early mornings having coffee with just me, reading, walking, exploring.i found it healing and I love the memories now. I cherish them always. This was before my depression was as healed as it is now and that aloneness and embracing it helped heal me so much and instill more joy into me. I’m naturally extroverted, always wanting people around me and it was hard at first to learn to do things like this alone but I accomplished it! 😀

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These are steps that lead to nowhere. They are in a neighborhood I used to live, one I lived in since I took my first breath until I turned eleven years old. It’s a small place where everyone knew each other. It’s often called the “ghetto” because it’s a very poor neighborhood and full of trash and falling down houses. And loud people, prostitutes, criminals, and people with drug problems. It wasn’t always as bad as it is now. It started to get worse and that’s why my mom and dad decided to move when I was eleven years old. People were getting murdered on the street corners where I played with my friends. One day I saw one of the murder victims after the homicide occurred.
A young woman who I still think of today. I never saw her before she died
That I know of. I don’t know who she is/was.
she had thick curly long hair and I remember it so vividly. I wonder who she would be if she were allowed to live.
I saw the whole thing, all the gore and all, I saw the emergency paramedics take her body away after covering her with the white sheet. I saw the gruesome aftermath, the things that no one cleaned and remained day after day until the rain washed it away.
She was killed on a man’s pavement and I wondered why he did not clean up his pavement after it occurred.
She was stabbed to death.
I knew it’s horrific but I was too young to completely understand.
i was sad to leave the neighborhood because I loved it there (not the violence and gore and all though)
i knew everyone, I had many friends there.
i never minded the loud people or the prostitutes on the corner.
One of them was even my friend when I saw her around.
she was sweet and friendly and I wondered why people talked about her In an unkind way.

i just saw her for her, not the unfortunate circumstances of her life.
I was very angry at my mom and dad for taking me away and moving me to a bigger place where I knew not as many people. I met a few friends I frequently saw but I still wanted my old ones and wanted to go back “home.”

i used to know a lady who lived on the street where those steps are. Her house is gone now but the broken steps remain.
she was very old, very sweet, very youthful and full of life. Very loving and warm.
She worked or volunteered at the elementary school I went to.
i remember when it was almost Christmas and I was in 4th grade and a little girl in class asked her if she thinks Santa Claus is real and she said “yes because who else brings all the toys?!” 😀

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These are some of my darker pictures. The ones that don’t resonate with everyone. My mom and sister don’t care for them. Some pictures are universally pleasing like, most people would probably like them or agree that they are pleasant, pretty, uplifting…such as flowers, a bowl of fruit, cute animals, sunsets and sunrises, babies…and I love all those too. but there are certain kinds
of 
artistic things that only certain others will understand or appreciate like this stuff. I never used to like black & white or sepia pictures but now I love them. Only for certain things though, usually not for people or
Nature, definitely not for the sky usually. I think those things are meant to let their colors fly. But for buildings and things I like b&w and sepia as well as color.

This concept can be applied to many things. Some things are probably better off being tossed. But some things can be given new life, used in a different way. Old clothes, old mail, things which no longer serve their original purpose well can be creatively made into something else. Even ourselves! 

You can use useless mail for an arts and crafts project, clothes too.

This can probably be good for the environment too! Recycling is important!

And we can even rebuild ourselves into something new, grow, evolve, expand…

I wish you much love, happiness, health, joy, and creativity!

😀

Xoxo Kim

P.s. This post is not in good condition, like the format because I posted it directly onto the app on my phone instead of how I usually do. The app is not compatible with my phone for posting directly onto it, I can’t correct mistakes easily and other stuff. I did this like this because I got confused with the locations of the pictures in my phone and that part was easier to just use the app directly for. Most of my posts won’t be this much
Of
a wreck though. Lol ;-D toodleloo lolz

30 Days of Lists – Day #3 Art Journaling Tips & Ideas

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I have always loved journals, drawing, writing…but I would always start a journal then eventually stop until a while later, lose it, and start a new one. I never knew why exactly until recently.   I have never been a perfectionist at all but I have felt low occasionally for not being some definition of perfect.  I never usually tried to be perfect at most things but I wanted to be without even trying and felt low for not being that way. The reason I always give up journaling/drawing and stuff, I realized is, I have terrible handwriting and drawing skills. I always knew that but never quite realized, consciously, that my view of it was interfering with me. If you look at my handwriting you will seriously think a first grader wrote it! It’s not my choice either!   I can’t write neat or small. It’s very large and sloppy.  It’s funny though and I laugh about it.  

A stranger once saw my handwriting and said I have serial killer handwriting.   His teacher told him that when he was young, he said. Lol!

And when I write in cursive I can’t even understand it myself. So yeah. 

And when I draw, it looks like a little kid’s artwork. But I have finally come to accept that it doesn’t matter. It’s still healing and still fun and still great to draw and write in journals. It’s different than writing in an online blog or in a memos section in some electronic device. Both are great! But journaling in a notebook is more of a “hands on” experience. 

So I won’t let my serial killing handwriting get in the way any longer!  

I love looking at people’s art journals online. It inspires me and is aesthetically pleasing. But I have found myself occasionally comparing myself to those people with me coming up short.   “Why can’t I draw that good?” “why couldn’t I think of that?!” “why doesn’t mine look that artistic?” “how can she do that and not me?!?!”

But I decided to silence that monster and just focus on what I’m doing right. It’s art journaling, it can’t ever be wrong!   I let those other journals inspire and please me more than make me distressed or envious that my skills aren’t that great.   It’s a hobby, not a job that must be perfect.  

I am so thankful that I now realize why I never stick with artistic stuff. Because I get fed up with my handwriting and lack of skills. And I’m thankful I now realize that it doesn’t have to be an issue.   Comparing ourselves to others in negative ways is an ugly thing. Now let’s stop.

I recently began a new art journal.   And I will stick with it. I will fill it up with kiddy drawings and serial killer handwriting until it’s overflowing and be very proud! ;-D

So today I am listing some ideas for journal entries and some tips. This is somewhat new for me and I’m just learning and exploring and haven’t tried a lot of this.   So if you’re also new to it, we can learn and explore together!  

And if your an expert already give me some tips! Lol

Some of these I thought of completely on my own, others are inspired by other places I seen.
And I will add the links where I got some ideas at the end of this post.

1.) song lyrics – try to capture some lyrics to a song that has some sort of meaning to you. Maybe write the lyrics and draw around them or not write them in words but draw them out. Maybe scenes of a song or just the emotions they inspire in you.

2.) quotes – do the same as above but with a quote 

3.) draw yourself as your favorite character in a book you read. Pretend that’s you. How do you feel? Put yourself in that character’s place.

4.) least favorite character  – step outside your comfort zone and try the above suggestions but instead draw yourself as the villain or your least favorite character! 

5.) random scene – choose a random scene out of a book. Maybe randomly flip to a page and draw what you see/read on that page. Or search your memory for just some scene and bring it alive in your journal.

6.) favorite scene – do the above suggestion but choose one of your favorite scenes instead of a random one. Or even draw your least favorite or uncomfortable scene!

7.) Be inspired by something you always wanted to do – Is there something you want to do so badly but just never have? I have for so long wanted to dress up in a beautiful dress and go to some fancy expensive restaurant for no reason other than just because! Lol I wear just pants and shirts everyday. I dont have much money and whenever I got dressed up before and hair done it was for some big occasion like a graduation, a wedding, prom or whatever.   Imagine going all out, getting all dolled up for no reason other than sheer pleasure?! Some people may think it’s a waste but to me it’s just a thrill! :-D. I don’t plan on making a habit of it. I’m not materialistic generally but once in a blue moon is ok! Everyday of your life is a special occasion! 

8.) worst pain you have ever felt – art journaling is healing for both physical and emotional pain. It can help ease the pain sometimes but even if it doesn’t it can help us cope with the pain. I have a depressive disorder that doesn’t get cured but comes and goes in symptoms and full blown episodes. Many days now it’s like I don’t even have it. But I do and it always comes back. Art journaling is amazing for coping. Also, I have a physical pain disorder.   A chronic facial/head pain disorder. It’s so bad and interferes with my life when it flares up badly like right now. Like my depression, it comes and goes.   But with the physical disorder I am usually always in some degree of pain, often mild. The mild usually doesn’t interfere with my happiness or my life in general. It’s just there. But the moderate to severe pain is pure raw agony and I feel so broken.   So very broken. There’s no safe, effective medical treatments, just home remedies that help. Sometimes severe flare ups come frequently over and over lasting for days to weeks. Sometimes they don’t show up for months and months. They come on without warning. Sometimes waking me in the middle of sleep.  Since there’s very little I can do to ease them after they appear, I have to find ways to handle them and cope with the pain. Healthy ways.  Physical movement and expression of the pain often help. Like I said, not help alleviate the pain usually but just cope with it.
Sharing comforting quotes with others when I’m in pain, knowing I may be helping someone else, helps me too.   I can’t bear the thought of knowing there’s others in the depth of pain I’m in. And even worse! I can’t fathom it. But capturing my pain in writing and drawing helps so much. Physical pain brings with it, emotional pain, panic, and fear, distress…and it’s important to handle it effectively. 

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9.) a moment you felt shocked – draw/paint how it feels to be shocked.

10.) let your unconscious mind and hand lead the way – don’t think, just draw or paint or write or cut out and glue….see what you create.

11.) What does love feel like to you ? Capture it

12.) your idea of beauty – what does beauty feel like?

13.) capture a poem you like in an image 

14.) draw a fantasy you have

15.) capture a dream you once had while you slept or the feelings it provoked or still provokes in you

16.) capture yourself exactly as you are but with one difference – maybe something you have been wanting to change about yourself or something you would never want to change about you. Maybe this can make you more grateful for all that you currently are or motivate you to change that one thing for the better.  

17.) draw a feeling you used to love when you were little – I have always loved being in school with all the other kids. Especially when we would do unusual activities like turn the lights off and watch a movie or have a holiday celebration. I still remember how it felt. How it felt to be a child. A child in school with all other kids doing fun activities.   I can never feel that again in a  moment because I will never be a kid again. And I will never literally be in that place again.  But I cherish the memories and would love to capture them in an artistic way.

17.) meditative experience – try to meditate while creating.   Literally try to feel what you are capturing, doing, feeling. Feel it. Don’t just draw mechanically or make it obligatory. Try to live in the moment 

18.) don’t just focus on the end result. Savor the process of creating.   Sometimes I have trouble with this. I can’t wait to see my masterpiece and I neglect to cherish the very process of creating. 

19.). Try not to force your journal to only be a certain way. Let it flow.   It doesn’t all have to be positive or profound.   It can be sometimes negative and sometimes “trivial.”. Every entry doesn’t have to be pretty or have some great meaning or underlying message.  

20.) what’s it like to be very scared? What’s your biggest fear whether it can really happen or not.

21.) What is it to be lonely?

22.) to actually be alone? 

23.) Express, draw, paint…how it felt when you were rejected? maybe for a job or a university. By a potential lover or friend or family member.

24.) keep in mind that your content doesn’t have to make sense to anyone, not even yourself. It can be abstract, confusing, mysterious, and nonsensical. Even if you decide to share it, you don’t have to feel the need to explain it.  I love a little mystery.   My favorite kind of poetry and artwork is obscure kind. Especially when it kind of seems to make sense but doesn’t.   I often like to write, poetically, without explanation . And when I read poems and view artistic stuff by others, I love when they don’t explain it. I love drawing my own implications or interpretations.   But you certainly can explain if you want! You just shouldn’t have to feel like it’s your obligation. 

25.) Express your gratitude list artistically

These are just suggestions; I’m in no way saying they are the only right way and anything else is wrong.   Some of these are great for some people and not others. Do what’s best for you, of course, even if above I stated something else.  

Your journal doesn’t just have to be about drawing or painting or coloring. You can cut things out and glue it onto your pages. Someone suggested old pieces of mail, glue it on and color or paint over it. Cut out magazine pieces or cloth and glue it on. Anything you can think of!

My journal doesn’t look anywhere nearly as artistic as some I have seen! But instead of viewing that in a negative light, I see it as a fun challenge! I have all these blank pages to make more and more creative and soon mine will be looking great!

I have drawing pencils, watercolor paints & pencils, colored pencils, markers, magazines, and glue and scissors for now.

Just by starting this new journal very recently and listing these here today, I learned even more about myself. I found a deeper part of me. A part I forgot about. I was able to summon some old experiences, feelings, memories that I forgot about but are still very important.  I learned some new or forgotten fears, how really capable I am of healing and coping, how deeply certain things both old and new have affected me in both good and bad ways.

I have been able to somewhat distract myself and push the physical pain and my fear of it to the back burner of my mind as I focus on this.

Remember you don’t have to show your art journal entries to anyone!   It’s up to you. Even though I’m very shy, I’m also very open about my experiences, emotions, opinions…and I don’t mind sharing with people. I love to. But many people say they love knowing their journal is just for them, never for anyone else to lay eyes on. No one else has to judge it, critique it, or know of its content.

As open as I am, I like to share most of my ideas and things with people on and offline. But sometimes it does feel very good to have a secret of my own. Not because the secret is too embarrassing or awkward to let people know but just because it’s a little thrilling having some things only I know. I don’t make that a habit but there are a few things I like selfishly keeping to myself!   Lol. One example is my dreams at night. I dream often and frequently remember them. And for some reason I like keeping lots of my dreams to myself. Again, not because they’re embarrassing or fear of judgment but it’s sweet just having something for me! Lol
I love remembering dreams I had and knowing there’s no one else in the entire world who knows this but me.

It’s especially thrilling since I’m not usually like that and I usually share so much about myself.

So it’s up to you to share or not to share your journal entries!   What I would really recommend though is that you decide only after your entry is done If you will share or not. Go into it deciding that this is just for you and that you won’t share with anyone. Then when it’s done you can decide to share if you want. I recommend this because if you decide that you will show people your entries before you complete them, you may unconsciously hold back something or feel too pressured that it has to be perfect or at least presentable, something that others will appreciate. You may unconsciously start to create more for other people than for yourself.   This defeats the purpose of art journaling. Your art journal is not a public blog for yourself and everyone who comes across it. It’s for you and only you.  

It’s meant to be healing, expressive, creative and if you feel pressured to make it a certain way then you may not get the most out of it. So be all that you can be, do what is best for you and only you then decide if it’s meant for anyone else’s eyes.

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If you have any tips or ideas or any links to pages about art journals please let me know! Whether you are also somewhat new to art journaling, already have been engaging in this for a while, or never tried it! I would love any ideas! All are valuable to me! Thank You!!

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Thank You so so much to everyone who reads, shares, likes, “likes,” and comments on my content! I appreciate you so much!!! And I hope you find something helpful here.

Xoxo Kim

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P.s. I totally forgot the links!!

Here you are:

http://www.blacksburgbelle.com/2010/10/50-art-journal-prompts/