We set intentions for this 12 week creative process. I choose to focus on my physical healing recovery from autoimmune disease. Interestingly, several women in this group are also dealing with health issues. My body and it's distress are something that preoccupies my life right now and is the source of much sadness, disappointment, worry and anger. I am working with natural healing efforts as well as pharmaceuticals. Yet I still am living with a lot of pain. My RA is spreading at a fast rate and I am facing several secondary problems that require yucky interventions. Spinal epidurals, possible joint replacement (again), steroids. It is difficult to perform daily activities. I am really down about these developments.
The evening we got together for our first journal page, my hands were in severe pain. Painful nodules encompassing joints and new fingers now affected. Even though my hands hurt, I was determined to create with them. That is why I started by covering the bottom half of my page red. Red for pain, inflammation, anger. I wanted to start with that and envision a brighter future with a light yellow rising above the red.
Tree imagery resonates with me. I love their grounding presence and am comforted by their shade and solidness. 
They teach us a lesson of perseverance and letting go of what does not suit us. Trees breathe and get moisture through their leaves. When it is summer, leaves grow plentiful and when temperatures drop and the tree does not need so much moisture, they shed their leaves. One of my group sisters shared that analogy. Trees are also home to critters and a place to play.
I love my childhood memories of special trees. As a 5 year old, I found a magical tree with which I could control the weather. I used a coat hanger stuck in one of it's branches to perform my feats. I charged a penny to hot and sweaty neighborhood kids to lower the temperature a few degrees! We really believed it worked. I was a tree whisperer. Around eight, I loved sitting under a huge honeysuckle tree. The shade and sweet flowers and their aroma was so soothing on summer days. Pulling the center filament out of the honeysuckle flower and dabbing the sweetness on my tongue. Honeysuckle has remained a lifelong favorite scent of mine. As an adult, I have had crushes on special trees that I came across. I would constantly touch them, spend time under them and make small offerings to the tree. Even my family adopted the imagery of a full branched tree as a source comfort and nurturance. My parents' tombstone displays just such a magnificent tree. This is a painting inspired by their tombstone.
Our facilitator helped me quiet my inner critic as I bemoaned that I did not have the right supplies and that I did not like my page. A few multicolored tear drops, collage pieces that point to writing and art as a vehicle for healing and a fiery purification float across the page. The little owl symbolizes my innate wisdom that I learned to recognize over decades. The vertical strip on the left side of the page is an homage to my mother. My mother was a whiz with mathematics and financial affaires. She used to use an old fashioned keyboard calculator, complete with a paper roll displaying the sums. When she died, I found many unused rolls of calculator paper. I could not throw them away; so I decorated them. I stained, stamped and embellished these archaic office supplies and now incorporate them into letters or journals etc.
I reluctantly offer up this journal page for viewing. It is practice for letting go of my inner critic stranglehold on my creativity. My art journal incorporates artistic expression, but I do not see them as "works of art". But it is fun, releasing and getting my creative juices flowing. And the group process of journaling together is a wonderful healing tool. Even my feline companion, B, joined me in this process. 
She sensed my apprehension and vulnerability, so she held my "paw" entire time.
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