These are some excerpts from my Artfest 2001 artist’s journal.

2009 update: I sniffle a little when I re-read what I wrote in 2001.  Everything changes, and I wouldn’t turn back the clock, even if I could.

However, I wish that some of the best of Artfest was still available… and I hope for a renaissance of arts events that are really about art and creativity.

8 Apr 01 – morning

For me, Artfest was a profound, affirming, and life-changing experience. It was a nurturing environment in which creativity was exercised and valued.

We skimped on sleep and sometimes cut our mealtimes short, in favor of extra time for our art–making art, learning techniques, and viewing others’ creative genius.

Originality was the norm. Workshops that started “by the numbers” soon soared in extraordinary directions, powered by individual creative visions.

But mostly, I think most of us were reminded that our art isn’t merely valid, it’s vital for us as artists–and for the society in which we live.

8 Apr 01 – after lunch

It’s been too brief, but I’m reluctant to admit that I’m also ready to go home and let this settle in — and WORK!  I’ve realized that most of my life I try to define who I am by the people around me–people I’m very different from.

At Artfest, I’m suddenly surrounded by people who are very like me, and on one hand this affirms my identity as an artist. It helps me understand and define myself and my forms of expression, being among supportive people–mostly women–who seem to paint themselves and their environment with a broadly creative brush.

On the other hand, we’re not entirely alike and I try to remember that we are called to art to express something, perhaps to the world but mostly to ourselves. To manifest something which seems important to us as individuals–a fleeting expression or an eternal message. And, for some, communicating pain, anger, frustration or rage is part of the healing, artistic process.

There’s another aspect of being immersed briefly in this precious and nurturing group of talented and creative artists. I am almost afraid to express myself too loudly, because I fear alienating this new-found cherished group.

By Sunday lunch, discussions had expanded past art and careers, to–in some cases–religious and political issues.

For me, this feels like treading in dangerous waters. Like my art, the rest of my life tends to be a bit renegade and non-conformist.

As I chatted briefly with some about potentially volatile subjects, I watched a certain reactionary mental scurrying flash past the expressions of some.

Others visibly struggled to use inclusive words to express themselves. And a few fell into old habits of somewhat defensive/protective rhetoric–the kind of dialogue many of us use in daily conversations among “normal” society as we stake out our boundaries.

It’s a big step, and a treasured one, to find myself surrounded by like-minded women and men. Finally being “just like” nearly everyone around me… It’s a precious experience that I want to capture, hold, caress, and release only when it becomes impossible to do otherwise.

And so I pack my bags knowing that this is merely the beginning of a deeply important process as an individual, as an artist, and also as part of a bond to many others who were at Artfest and briefly shared this extraordinary time of growth, learning, expression, and new-found awareness.

I go home more confident of my identity as an artist. The importance of the creative message was affirmed in every moment of Artfest.

I leave behind an amazing, static moment of connection to the power of shared commitment to creativity.

I take home the shared vision and empowerment that Artfest generated, communally and individually.

Above, you can see a few of my Artfest 2001 journal pages, from left to right

The first page, shown top left with the orange figure on it, was written on the flight from Manchester, NH to Seattle. I said, “…I’m a mix of excited, exhausted, anxious, and exhilarated, crossing my fingers that I’m prepared. I also know that this is a landmark, the start of my new life.” Then I mused about things I’d bring on the next flight, to get more art done.

You can see a larger scan of the actual page, here. (Opens in a new window.)

My next page, shown above, is a collage of a few news headlines at the start of Artfest. For the remaining four days, I’d have no contact with TV, radio, or newspapers… which is how I wanted it:  Total immersion in creativity.

The next sheet shows some of the “evidence” I glued to my journal pages, including luggage tags and some experimental pieces from/for my Collaged Tote Bag workshop.

The final page in the illustration shows a sample of the spontaneous collage work that I did to record my feelings. You can see it, full size, at Aisling’s Artfest 2001 Journal – Page 2.

This is one of many short, spontaneous collages that I created as part of my Artfest 2001 journal pages. I work with notebook paper, because it’s easy to put in a binder when I return home, and the paper is readily available.

In this collage, I like the image of the windswept tree… it keeps growing and looking unique & original, despite the wind and the elements which might discourage it.

The Sistine Chapel finger image seemed appropriate for Artfest 2001, because it was such a creatively empowering experience.

(That was during the early “Golden Age” of Artfest, when it was a little primitive and unpredictable… but very affordable and layered with wild un unrestrained creativity.  That was before the character of Artfest changed. It’s an era that many of us remember wistfully.)

The rest of the collage… Well, I just liked the colors, particularly the picture of the speeding car. It suggested how fast I was changing, at Artfest 2001, becoming more powerful as an artist.

I did several small collages such as this, as time permitted. This is one of my favorites.