Because it had been so long, I returned to square one, or, more accurately, page 1, of the book. It turned out that I had a lot to say, and so I found myself collaging additional levels of detail to just about every spread. The plot of the book also thickened. I found this surprising. And the ending became clear. Also surprising. I had entered the creation of this book as an open-ended exploration. Imagine my shock to discover that, like a more conventional treatise, it had a beginning, a middle, and an end. And that ending? Not to be a spoiler or anything, but it's looking like it just might turn out to be a happy one.
I'll let the pictures do the talking. You'll be looking at a little over a third of the final project here, with my usual copious editorial commentary.
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| Here's the book I altered. A humble planner from one of those old department stores that are long out of business. An interesting coincidence is that a branch of this store existed not too far from where I spent my teenage years. I'd always wanted to shop there, but my parents said it was too expensive for me. I found this book at a library sale, screaming for a new life. I heard the cry and plunked down my dollar. |
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| This is the opener of the book, setting the stage for something that would become vaguely (well, okay...highly) autobiographical. It wasn't until recently that I addressed this page--I figured I would know more about the beginning as I worked my way toward the ending. I chose images for this page with the care a scene- setter demands. The "transparency" labels are puns on a family life that wasn't; the red boxing glove, from a 1950s woman's magazine, foreshadows a rock 'em, sock 'em ride. |
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| Here we have the first spread, and the catalyst for the book title. The acetate transparency fastened over the photo at the corners allows the top layer to wobble, giving the assembly a creepy, wavy look in person. The "don't get jittery on me" text is embedded between the layers. Facing this role model of calm and cool, on the left-hand side is a large packing-tape transfer overlaid with a colorful hummingbird, which has a bill as sharp as needle-nose pliers. A benign bird or not? All will be revealed, just not now. |
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| A detail of the packing-tape transfer on the page, and the hummingbird going straight for the vein. I love the look on the lady's face. |
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| This is the second spread, an exercise in text and fragmentation. There are several different ways in which the text blocks may sequence during reading, giving a variety of interpretations. Two playing cards are tucked into slots. When they are removed, more text is revealed. Additionally, when you pull out the card on the right and match its measuring tape to the piece of measuring tape on the left, you get a surprise. |
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| Among other things, the third spread features a bookmark made from an altered playing card, an old image from Look magazine, a window cutout containing a transparent acetate image of a house, and a cunning paper curtain. The window acts as a viewfinder both as is and when turned and also allows a glimpse of text that suggests a sort of physical subconscious. Structures like this help reinforce continuity over what is essentially a series of many inter-related canvases. Those interested in structure should check out the first blogs in this series. You can locate them using the archive. |
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| This is another view of the third spread, just showing the bookmark flipped to reveal...surprise! Another altered playing card! I enjoyed the contrast between the Alice image on one side and this lady, with the unfortunate string running through her forehead, on the other. Note the little doll peeking in at the corner of the window...she appeared on the second spread and you'll see her many times more before this book is through. How she got into this book is detailed in my earlier Don't Get Jittery On Me blogs. |
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| The fourth spread. You can see how the window works when flipped, revealing a bit of Alice, the clocks, and the word "mystery." The merry-go-round that was hinted at on the previous spread is in full bloom here, and the text reinforces what it was like to live that way. I added the lines through each of the big dolls to repeat the theme of pole-through-carousel-horse, suggesting that these dolls were part of the ride, not riders. Notice that the little girl is free of a pole. I'd say she's a rider, not a ridee. You can do these sorts of things in an altered book. |
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| This is a close-up of the image you see through the window on the fourth spread. |
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| In the fifth spread, we begin to approach the rising action of the story. The images on the left convey blatant distress and contrast with the carefree dancing dolls from the ad for the "It's A Small World" attraction at Disney theme parks--this particular paper snip is from my treasured 1964 Official Guide to the New York World's Fair. Note the black netting at top right, which contains the crows. I talk about this at length in a previous Jittery blog, so won't repeat why I felt it was necessary to add birdproofing. |
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| A detail of the left page of the fifth spread. Those "tiles" are made out of cardboard trimmed with metallic marker. |
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| Turning the page to the sixth spread shifts the birdproofing to the previous image and reveals the escape of our little doll. There are arms to catch her, at least (according to the text snip) potentially. The wood stick functions as an internal monologue bar, suggesting a thought wave that might run through one's head when one is on the cusp of inventing a future, as pointed out on the left side of the page. |
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| A detail of the sixth spread |
And on that note, I will leave you for now. Just how does one invent a future, you might ask. An excellent question--stay tuned. And, as always, thanks for listening.
If you're following along, you may read Part 9 here: http://lauratringaliholmes.blogspot.com/2013/11/dont-get-jittery-on-m-part-9-or-this.html
