Don't Get Jittery On Me--Part 9, or "This Deed Is Almost Done"

When last we left off in the construction of this altered book, we were inventing a future. Reinvention is such a hot topic these days. People molt identities like snakeskins and then write books and magazine articles about how you can and should do it, too. Oh, were it that easy!

But it is not. Our childhood patterns are insidious, the big green goo of them sliming into any unoccupied corner of our brains, not to mention our hearts. Think ectoplasm. Think Ghostbusters.

And then think challenges. And how our pasts do not have to be predictors of our futures...if we have the resolve and, more important, as a first step, if we are able to say to ourselves and anybody else who will listen " I don't want to be like that." In breaking the cycle, there can be the salvation. Take it from me or, better yet, find it out for yourself.

And here is the penultimate segment in how the long story of "Don't Get Jittery On Me," my altered book, my sort-of-autobiography, unfolds...as usual, presented in pictures. Augmented, as you have come to expect from me by now, with lengthy captions.

I hope to wrap this series up in 10 entries, this being the 9th. If, dear reader, you are completely lost, the previous blog entry is in the October archive list.

For a quick memory refreshment, we left off here:

Birdproofing mesh on the left reveals, when opened, a trio of raucous crows, a
talking stick, a leaping little girl, and some upstretched arms
indicating that all may (potentially) not be lost.

The next spread shows us people fleeing the abyss on the left under the
watchful eye of One Big Bird. Of course there is clarifying text. 
At right, under the purple netting, are additional plot details, including my favorite
line ever: "Had my hair not been so firmly painted on my head, it would
have stood on end." The girl in the porthole is from an old Look magazine.

PURPLE NETTING? May I interject my feelings about using "mixed media" with traditional collage here?  No? I can feel the purists' shudders.... Okay, a topic for another time....

When you flip the page you get more explanatory text and yet another porthole.
Now our girl's head is atop a bird. I suppose that's an editorial comment. At
left you see a card from a Boy Scout playing deck and a game spinner. The
broken key at the bottom of the bird at right is actually a handle.

When you lift it, you've got a score! The book from which this illustration
was taken couldn't be farther from the sporting world. But who could resist
the triumph in the posture? Things are starting to look up around here.

I think we may just have stumbled upon a turning point.

A long time ago, I wrote a blog about incorporating the garish foil
vintage greeting card, which appears on the right of this spread, in my
altered book. It turned out to be a pretty seamless entry, and provided a
springboard for editorial ruminations. Note the closed porthole
 with suggestions of "ok" and, "how."  I like
incorporating hints rather than clobbering people over their heads.

The thing to notice here is how, when you flip the page (and the garish greeting
card) onto the next spread, the stems of the glasses just appear. Collage is magic.
I can say no more. At right, I sistered in a page from the original book, which I had
removed initially as part of the book prep process, because it provides editorial
 continuity and because, although I don't really believe in such things,
I kind of like being a Scorpio.

And then, on the next spread, we have the lawn chairs. A foreshadowing of
repose? Our heroine is at least on the same page with those chairs. It's
been a long time coming, but she'll get to repose, I know.

 

 

Until next time. Thanks so much for listening.

The last in the series, Part 10, finally, whew, may be found here: http://lauratringaliholmes.blogspot.com/2013/11/dont-get-jittery-on-me-part-10-or.html
 

 

 

Don't Get Jittery On Me--Part 8, or "Hello, It's Me"

My last post in June was just days before the unexpected death of my father, who plays quite the active character role in this altered book. If you are new to this series, welcome. Seek the archive bar at left for help in getting up to speed on the subject if you are lost or confused and wish to know more. I myself sought the archive bar for memory refreshment because I had put the book down for a good long time after my father's death. Death draws a line in the sand, does it not? But as much as death obfuscates, it can also help to clarify. And so, in recent weeks, I've continued work on my "Jittery" story.

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.



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.



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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.



This is a close-up of the image you see through the window on the
fourth spread.

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.

A detail of the left page of the fifth spread. Those "tiles" are
made out of cardboard trimmed with metallic marker.

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.

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

Dirty Birds

"Dirty Bird #1," 2012. Laura Tringali Holmes. Paper collage with décollage
on 5 x 7 canvas board. Ink transfers from antique papers, mica splits, charcoal,
and beeswax finish. 

These four works form a series borne of weeks of listening to a large part of the Rufus Wainwright musical oeuvre. As you can see, my reaction to Wainwright's complex layering of sound and personal experience was a stanchless layering of paper in an attempt to construct a vignette of my own personal history. I call this series "Dirty Birds."

I relied heavily on the process of décollage to create this series. The word décollage comes from the French (décoller), meaning to unstick or take off. And that's just what I did. I layered a ton of paper. I then methodically removed most of it with my fingertips, leaving only traces of what had gone before. I used water to soften up the layers, sometimes spit, and coffee, too.

Rubbing off the new to reveal the old and vice versa. Building an intimate intersection of then and now. As Rufus Wainwright so masterfully does in his musical work.

"Dirty Bird #2," 2012. Laura Tringali Holmes. Paper collage with décollage
on 5 x 7 canvas board. Ink transfers from antique papers, mica splits, charcoal,
 and beeswax finish.

While décollage technically may be about rubbing off, for me, much of the process happens at the front end of the work, in the planning, when the ideas spark. What should survive the excavation? How best to assist the interaction of the paper layers both during the décollage process and in the finished work?

And what about color? In décollage, I have discovered, the luscious inks on antique paper will often transfer to the work even as you meticulously rub away its carrier pulp. There's a lot of controlled ink transfer going on in these pieces. This is stuff to think about in advance.

"Dirty Bird #3," 2012. Laura Tringali Holmes. Paper collage with décollage
on 5 x 7 canvas board. Ink transfers from antique papers, mica splits, charcoal,
 and beeswax finish.

While blithesome kick-up-your-heels serendipity is never to be denied, the workhorse for me in the creation of this series was care. And control. Again, a reflection of what I was hearing in my studio.

"Dirty Bird #4," 2012. Laura Tringali Holmes. Paper collage with décollage
on 5 x 7 canvas board. Ink transfers from antique papers, mica splits, charcoal, and beeswax finish.

Hope you enjoy the Dirty Birds.
---
A note to those who, like myself, care about such things: The prominent text snips in all four works come from Gloria Steinem's 1993 book, Revolution From Within, which was out the door in the library recycle pile when I happened to grab it back. Flipping idly through the pages, the book fell open to the story about Laura and the Confidence Clinic. My name is Laura. I've been working on confidence. A tip of the hat to serendipity, and there you have it.