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

Don't Get Jittery on Me--Part 7, or "Rage, Despair, and...We Hope... Eventually....Hope"

Water is healing. I have usually managed to live on its fringes, even if the water is a wetland, more solid than liquid, more bird or bog turtle than fish. No surprise then that my hand found, on one fine morning, a piece of paper that spoke to me of water and I glued it in place opposite the floating Ophelia doll in my altered book. To those who have been following this series, welcome back. To those who are new, hello.



As you can see, the paper comes from an Old Navy shipping bag. Not much goes to waste around here.

When I glued down the paper, I left space at the top, so I could insert something…like this altered playing card. Nothing special, this playing card, just some verbal diarrhea as would come from a parent who wouldn't let his kids ever finish a sentence. Verbal diarrhea is common in narcissistic parents. The barrage of words on this card is more about emotion than art--a little overwhelming to look at, which was my intent. I sometimes use devices like this to spark feelings in viewers rather than as visuals in and of themselves. I added some texture to the page with pure white mesh, courtesy of the fabulous collage artist Zach Collins, whose work you can enjoy here: http://zachcollinsart.tumblr.com/. Then, while cogitating, I penciled around the text on the facing page, simply to draw attention to the words and to give myself some time to ease into my next steps.

 

The texture of the mesh echoed the shapes of the water droplets. I couldn't resist.

When I alter books, I flip around a lot, going from front to back rather than working through in logical order. Today I was drawn to the opening spread, an important place in any book. You never know when you're going to get brave. Today was, apparently, my day. I was up for foretelling, for scene-setting, for making a statement that would be clear to all those who view this project. Bam. Pow.

For the page facing the jittery girl, I went with a packing-tape transfer depicting a bunch of ghostly parts. That would make anyone jittery, right? The logic appealed to me because I spend a lot of time these days addressing my ghostly parts. I like how the images on the packing-tape transfer highlight the word "repair" on the old paper underneath. This book is definitely about repairing. Families led by a narcissistic parent usually have golden children and scapegoat children. The scapegoat child tends to become the repository for the family's ills and, in a particularly surreal-seeming twist of fate, the scapegoat child usually has a penchant for truth-telling. Like that's welcome! This adds a few more tablespoons of angst to the child's recipe, because who wants the truth?

 

Guess which child I was. Golden or scapegoat? Yup, there's quite a bit to repair here.

 

Here's an overview of the spread. Packing-tape transfer on the left. Acetate overlay onto photo, which renders the image "jittery" with weird interplays of light and movement, at right.

A detail of the packing-tape transfer. This is a honking big transfer--about 5x7. If you're just starting out with this sort of transfer, probably better to build your chops working smaller at first.

I liked what I did with the opening spread, and, so buoyed, flipped to the birdproofing spread that I had constructed last time. If you are so inclined, you can refresh your memory of that work here: http://lauratringaliholmes.blogspot.com/2013/05/dont-get-jittery-on-mepart-6-or.html. Resolving childhood issues gets dicey because there's a tendency to keep wanting to solve the old problems in real time. This can be very hard on current relationships as well as on one's relationship with oneself. I wanted to express that feeling of sorrow, which sometimes verges on hopelessness. When all was said and glued, I was quite pleased with the contrast between the faces of the women and the happy 1964 New York World's Fair Guidebook Disneyland advertisement (altered, of course), on the facing page.

 

So many images, it was hard to choose.

This is where I wound up, showing everything glued down, reality vs. fantasy.

Flipping the page, you get this. Note how the birdproofing mesh interacts with the image of the woman underneath. In an altered book, images often have to work in a number of ways, a challenge that I love to try to meet in unexpected ways. It's very different from flatwork, where a clever juxtaposition can exist in its own dimension, in its own right.

On the right-hand page, I collaged some arms to catch that falling doll and text that hints at the word "potentially." Blessed is the potential in children, all children.

Catch me, please! The arms--and the text snip--come from a 1937 copy of Look magazine.

And then it was back to the water spread, the one with the Old Navy shipping bag, for one last look of the day. Critical mass plays a huge part in my work. The story builds and builds....I flip to and fro...and you layer my honesty imperative on top of the story...and all of a sudden there's a measurable thicknesses of paper.

Here, as you can see, I chose to add a male image to the spread. I thought it made sense with the verbal diarrhea altered playing card in the pocket.

And then I finished up my day with an editorial comment.

In my childhood life, there was always a test. I just had to shoehorn that in.

Enough for today. Thanks, as always, for listening, and for your kind support.

Part 8 in The Jitters resides here: http://lauratringaliholmes.blogspot.com/2013/10/dont-get-jittery-on-me-part-8-or-hello.html

How to Make a Gel Transfer

"Wild Honeys," Laura Tringali Holmes
Paper collage with mixed media on 5 x 7 canvas board.  Three gel transfers, papers from Les
 Journal des Demoiselles 1837 and various other old publications, handmade paper and fibers, dye
 inks, acrylic glazes, Micron pen, and one wine spill

It is hard to amuse even oneself when writing about how to make a gel transfer, but sometimes one must do what one must do, and I have promised a tutorial. So here goes. I have started with a photo, above, to demonstrate that the results are a whole lot groovier than the process. Making your own transfers is worth doing if you want to communicate feelings of mystery or emotional tension, history or time passing, in your work.

This next photo provides a brief vocabulary lesson on the transparencies I most often use. It's important to note at this point that while all transfers are transparent to some extent, not all transparencies are transfers. I can't count all the people I have managed to confuse by swinging between the terms while chattering about my work.



Everything to the left is a gel transfer. They don't look transparent, but they become semi-so
when you glue  them down. As for the transparencies on the right, the sheet music at the top is a
packing-tape transfer, as is the black-and-white playing card. The sepia-tone woman, plant,
and color playing card are acetate transparencies, not transfers.

You can make gel transfers from black-and-white or color images. Whichever you choose, this will involve photocopying. What you're going to be doing with the gel is slapping it on, letting it dry, and then rubbing off the photocopy paper leaving the ink behind. So no original images please. I'm using a black-and-white photocopy for this tutorial.

You'll get the best black-and-white transfers from an inky photocopy. Inky photocopies come from machines that use toner cartridges. Machines that are not on the cutting edge of technology tend to produce the best photocopies for making black-and-white gel transfers. Give the machine in your public library a try. Sadly, your library is probbly underfunded and making do with an old photocopy machine. Happily, that machine just might produce exactly what you need to make a decent black-and-white gel transfer.

This is an inky black-and-white photocopy.  You might want to start with a
smaller image than I did if you're just getting started with gel transfers.

Going to the library to make the photocopy might be the most exciting part of this process, although there is peace to be found in the repetition of laying down numerous coats of gel and watching them dry. You're looking to build up at least three coats if using a gloss gel, more if using a matte gel. I prefer using a soft gloss gel because it results in the most transparent image, but regular gloss gel provides a sturdier transfer. You can either slop the gel on or go for thin coats. But whatever you do, make sure each coat is thoroughly dry before adding another. You are going to be rubbing the paper off the dried gel down the line, so it's in your best interest to create sturdy layerings.

This is the first coat but it might as well be the second or third. There's
not a whole lot going on visually in this process. And while I like
Golden products, of course you can use other brands successfully. 

Sometimes when I work I like things really flat. Other times I like to create texture, as in the piece at the top of this page. Viewers engage differently with things that are smooth than they do with things that are bumpy. It's a nice detail to be in control of. This is something to keep in mind when brushing out the gel. Do you want ridges or smoothness?



As you can see, I'm leaving the ridges in the second coat. If you use a
matte gel, you won't have the option for big ridges, as it doesn't hold
brush strokes like gloss gel.

After your photocopy is coated, you want to throw it in water and go do something else for at least fifteen minutes. I left a gel transfer in a pot of water for two days once, and it was just fine, so you don't really have to rush back.

Soaking in water.

Now it's time to strip the paper off the back of your built-up gel. The water will have softened the paper, making this much easier than it may sound. A large transfer, like this one, can be unwieldy, expecially if you are hoping to keep it in one piece. If your transfer is large, try supporting it on your wrists. But whether you are working small or large, start rubbing off the paper in the middle of the image, with your thumbs. Like so.

My other thumb should be in the picture, but it's holding the camera.
Notice how the paper is coming off in rolls. That's what you're going for.
Now imagine how those rolls of paper can clog up your sink. Do not do
this directly over your drain!

And here we have it. The finished gel transfer will become semi-transparent after you glue it in place. There will always be some paper fuzz on the back of the transfer, so don't go crazy about that. The best way to neutralize the light-blocking tendency of the paper fuzz is to rub it with some more gel just before you glue it in place. That's rubbed-off paper in the sink strainer and some lemonade with strawberries for me.

And now, at last, an opportunity for wit! One of my favorite altered playing cards using a gel transfer.

"Bird With Heart," Laura Tringali Holmes
Altered playing card with paper collage and mixed media, using bird engraving and gel transfer,
various papers, text snippet, inks, paints, and glazes

Good luck! And thanks, as always, for tuning in.

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.