This morning, I sat watching the birds while I had my coffee and journaling time. The Rose-breasted Grosbeaks and Baltimore Orioles are back. They make my heart sing and they make me want to draw and write poetry. I have grown comfortable with my poetry, mostly haiku or senryu poems.
Yesterday I wrote:
Warm coffee
dog snuggled at my side
Good morning
The thing about my little poems and my drawings is that they become my mental imagery. My writing and my art create the images that my aphantasic1 brain cannot. I am in the process of getting certified to teach nature journaling. This morning as I watched the birds, I thought about drawing them and writing and creating a nature journal page. I hesitated. My brain started to tell me that I wasn’t good enough or skilled enough and my drawings aren’t realistic enough.
My inability to hold an image in my mind’s eye makes drawing from life challenging. Having to constantly look back to see what I can’t hold in my mind makes me kind of dizzy especially when I’m using binoculars. I hear in my head a voice (It’s my inner voice with words from a mentor) say, “No one will confuse your duck drawing as too real.” I know that person was trying to assure me that the more cartoony look I was going for was fine, but I also know what I had been doing and how hard I work at making drawings realistic. It hit my “not good enough as an artist nerve.”
When I try to get everything right, I get finicky and the life of the bird disappears. I know some of this thinking about getting it right is connected with my memories of looking at Audubon bird drawings and I “think” I need to make it just right to make it understandable and “true.”

The truth is that especially in children’s books, we make the images in a variety if ways, some are cartoony, some are realistic, some impressionistic and many other styles.
What I’m realizing is that my imperfect drawings are mine, they make me happy, they create a mind’s eye journal of what I notice in a day. Today, I noticed that the grey headed catbird has ombre dark grey to light grey tail feathers. I noticed that this simple grey bird looks soft and sweet just like its mewing song. It eats suet and grape jelly.
And I realized that when I feel that if I can’t get my drawings “perfect” I can’t teach nature journaling, I’m being disingenuous to myself and to kids learning to draw.
Art is a way of of expressing what you see, notice, and imagine. Nature journaling is the same thing. I think the word imaging is just replaced with the words wonder and It reminds me of . . .
I spent some time doing some EFT2. This has helped me release the negative thoughts and replace them with a love of my art, my style, my way of expressing what I see in the world.
As I look at all of these drawings, I see me and yet, I also see that I can let more of me out. I can’t wait to see what I create as I let me shine fully into my art. I can’t wait to work with others in creating their own nature journaling experience.
Aphantasia is the inability to create images in the mind’s eye. To be even more thorough, in my case, I don’t see images, hear sounds, smell scents, taste, or feel through touch any imagery. What I do get are impressions or memories that I can unravel to bring back the sensory components of my memories and imagination. When I eat certain foods, I am transported and memories arise, the same with sounds, and scents and images. The more I connect myself to the experiences, the stronger the memories.
Emotional Freedom Technique— A form of tapping that helps the body release old thought patterns and create new improved neuro pathways.
Sarah, I love your birds. You say, "Art is a way of of expressing what you see, notice, and imagine." But more than that, it expresses how you feel about what you're seeing, and your love of these little feathered creatures comes through loud and clear. I'm jealous that you get orioles. There are supposed to be some around here but I've never seen them. Chickadees are my favourites, but you're right about how quick they are. They dart around so fast, grabbing a seed and scooting off to open it before coming back for another. It amazes me they can get enough energy from a seed to fuel all that motion. I love your idea of a bit of art and a haiku as a journal entry for the day. I might steal that idea!
Sarah, the true bird in all its glory is there when we can get away from the beast "perfectionism". For me as an art enthusiast, you have captured the essence of the catbird - unassuming, small, grey, unassuming, yet, so comely! Ty. You and your practice give me hope!