Un-jerking the Reaction of the Knee

I'm not exactly in the mood for new things. It's almost the year anniversary of when my mom was killed by the guy who rammed a catheter through the wall of her main heart artery, causing her to bleed to death. And my dad just had a mini-stroke, requiring a good measure of step-up-to-the-plate-ism on my part (and swallowing the detritus of our lousy relationship). One of my kids is living on the wrong coast, and I miss her terribly. Another of my kids will be leaving to spend six months in Asia almost before I can say "Bob's Your Uncle." The littlest kid has just twirled past 21, pushing my midlife-crisis button. So when Carl Heyward, an artist in San Francisco, offered me the opportunity to participate in his KNEE(jerk) Fragmentation Project, which essentially has you creating an 18″ x 24″ work and then cutting it into 25-30 individual cards, MY knee-jerk reaction was 'Holy Hide-My-Head-In-the-Batcave, Batman!"

I therefore responded to Carl that I didn't think my work, which tends to be deeply rooted in a literal and literary perspective, would suit the project. What if nobody liked it? Oh, the hurt! I speculated that the typical content of my work might appear...well...twinky...to the talented cadre of abstract artists who were already participating in the project. Plus, the size of the canvas was way out of my comfort zone. And the scissoring thing! Whoa! And on and on and on.

...but Carl pointed out that sometimes the thing to do with unfamiliarity (or, in my lexicon, fear), is to look at it.

...and I began to wonder, could I make it fly?

So I straightened out my jerked knee and pushed myself to move forward. When I look back at my life, I see that most of my best decisions have been based on courage and not on fear. With all of this other stuff going on, courage seems like a really good thing to actively cultivate. 

What follows is the result of this forward motion, captured in a series of process snapshots with my cell phone. The head I've found myself creating in during this project feels both alien and familiar, and I've traveled to some interesting places without leaving the comfy confines of my loft. I know I'm going to want to think about all this when I come up for air, so it made sense to document the doings. Follow along if you have a moment. If not, wish me well, because there's no way I'm finished with this yet.

I started with an old copy of Harper's Monthly (late 1800s), given to me by a friend.
This paper has good vibes, which I felt would be helpful in this endeavor.

This is what the paper looks like pasted down to 18" x 24". I
lifted off sections of text with masking tape to texture it up a bit.
Also threw on some glzae. One of the stories in the Harper's was about
"Anne looking the other way," and this was the theme that wound
up informing my work. I've had lots of Annes who looked the
other way in my life.

I love the people-printed tissue paper! It came with the
box of Spanish boots owned by the daughter who is on
the wrong coast. The photo of the couple is a tape transfer
that I made from an old photo in my collection--you can see a
Topshop mailing bag (from my other daughter) underneath
the tape transfer. But that background, yikes! It got out
of hand! It has to go!

So I SCISSORED out that background! That's right, I cut up the
work, saving only the stuff I liked and that had meaning to me.
Wowzers!  I was feeling the Fragmentation! I was also beginning
to get a sense of  the symbolism of  "Anne who looked the other
way." But I was back at square one with the background.

Once I got rid of the misleading background, things began to
clarify thematically in my head. To the 18" x 24" paper I added text
from a couple of old books in my collection: Childrens' Rights by
Margaret Wiggins and The Ideal Fairy Tales, both from the late 1800s.
One of the things I love about collage is choice. But all that choice
can be frustrating. I felt good about these paper choices.

No longer a scissoring novice, I blithely cut apart the tissue-paper
people section and rearranged the parts for better balance in the
composition. I also needed to balance out the big ogre on the right 
and chose to use some color to do that. Hence the figures and
halo thing over the head of the guy in the photo. Another revelation:
I didn't have to work flat! I could add physical dimension! 
I went for it. With a little pulling and tugging, I was able to create
flaps here and there so I could make the figures--and, in fact, the
tissue-paper-people cutout--3-D.  3-D! Never did
that before! I used eyelets to attach things and hid them
under the flaps.

While I was at it, I added some editorial comment to the guy's shirt,
as you can see in this detail.

Another detail, showing the 3-D effect described earlier.

So this is where I'm at as of today. Yup, that's me in the
mirror, using my cell phone to capture my courage.

The KNEE(jerk) Fragmentaion Project is well worth a look. You can read more about it here.  http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000788732562&ref=tn_tnmn#!/events/311538705559253/ , and the project will also be documented in catalog format later in 2012.

As always, thanks for listening

Un-BIRD-ening in Spring 2012

Last year I found a box of old Audubon bird flashcards on my library's swap shelf. The flashcards sat around my loft for quite some time, but then, just a few weeks ago, I found myself making gel transfers of the images of my favorite birds--the ones who regularly hang out at my deck feeders. These gel transfers seemed to quite naturally gravitate to the texts in some of my favorite old books and magazines. I was hooked. I added a variety of mixed-media techniques...and a bird series was born. The pieces are not quick to make, and there are about a dozen in the pipeline. But the work is a meditative exercise, and gives me time and space to think and feel. I work on these pieces on days when I can throw the loft skylights open and hear the sweet and invigorating music of bird talk.

"Innocent Yet World-Weary"
Gel image transfer of birds from old Audubon flashcards,
old papers, acrylic paint, inks, charcoal pencil, gold pen,
mica dust and beeswax on 5 x 7 canvas

"You've Got to Punctuate"
Gel image transfer of birds from old Audubon flashcards, gel
image transfer of flower from old gardening book, old papers,
acrylic paint, inks, charcoal pencil, gold pen, mica dust, and
beeswax on 5 x 7 canvas

This shot shows the gels soaking in water, prior to peeling.

A look at the image emerging after peeling off some of the paper, like a nestling emerging
from its shell.

And thanks for listening.

The Un-Journal

Way back when, I had prepped a travel journal to take to Italy. I talked about the construction here: (“Grooving with the Glitch” http://lauratringaliholmes.blogspot.com/2011/08/grooving-with-glitch.html ). But I never used my journal. As it happened, and as I was warned might happen, I wound up liking my journal pristine, untouched by pen-in-human-hand.

Here are some of the pages from the journal. I had such fun with it, creating pockets for secret thoughts and making extra writing surfaces by recycling clothing tags.

But it wasn't just the love of pristine-ery that kept my hands off my journal during my trip and afterward. Truth be told, and as it happened, the pages were just too scratchy with texture for the good ink glide that I demand from my pen while journaling.

Hence, an un-journal. But just for now. My plan is to make prints of my journal pages on rich paper, design a cool binding, and then allow my ink--and my thoughts--to flow.

Thanks for listening.