I went to the Francesca Woodman exhibit at SFMOMA one rainy day a couple of weeks ago. I really wasn't ready for the flood of feeling that show brought up for me. I would site Woodman as an early influence of mine, especially when I was in my early terms at Art Center. But instead of my work, it brought up all these feeling of being a young artist and the questioning and lack of acceptance of my own process. There are quite a few parallels within the way we printed and loosely in subject matter (although I was not such a self portraitist as she). I remember getting such grief for printing small. I forgot she printed small as well. It is funny to think of now, when all these things have been figured out to some extent. Or maybe it is just that confidence and sureness in my work and vision is unquestionable now. But those feelings were so easily and unexpectedly excavated at that show. So today I share a couple of pages from my creative journal with you all. All early work of a young unsure artist. My journal was my place to do anything. And for years no one saw them - they were for me alone. I feel like starting one up again. It is invaluable to have a safe place for oneself to just create. What do you do just for yourself that nurtures you creatively?