Here are two new collages with some mosaic variations. A one-minute slide show follows. Without spilling any beans I can say it’s about my book and the timing of assistance.
With newly revised timetable in hand, onward and upward. Must: write query letters; make progress on list of agents; write elevator speech for plot of novel.
In the meantime, I am soooo happy to report that my 30+ year old front crown was removed without mishap yesterday. The underlying post remained intact. No implant necessary. Yeah! I don’t even mind that the temporary crown, which I will get to wear to Los Angeles this month, is green. I kid you not!
I will leave you with two screen shots from yesterday and this thought: if I see Steve Bannon in handcuffs in November, Christmas will have come early — in spite of the faux outrage already being ginned up by the right wing.
It’s one thing to vary photo layers and filters endlessly in a kind of obsessive and focused play. It’s another matter altogether to manage the volume of results. I get attached to these collages! What am I supposed to DO with them?
Cleaning up the downstairs study closet affords one idea: group images and print on both paper and cloth. I found print-ready silk, cotton, stickers, and loads of archival paper. What am I saving it all for?
Printing from my phone is a pain in the ass in terms of centering or sizing images, so I may have to go back to downloading onto PC and working through Photoshop elements. Ugh. I really want to preserve a body of work and in so doing, create another body of work, but I want simplicity of process!
Must also consider copyright issues. I cannot sell collages that use recognizable and/or untransformed work by other artists. Is that MOST of my collages? Maybe.
My vision of small booklets posted for purchase gets quickly dashed.
Today it’s wet. It rained hard throughout the night. I know because I was awake for a lot of it.
I’ll close with a few screen shots. Food for thought and images of — what else? — cloth!
And so it goes, obsessively, with this weekly visual prompt challenge from the Paris Collage Collective. I’m sorry if this gets to be too much, but given how many iterations I produce, there’s this need to document at least some of them here.
When I cut the male silhouette out of a magazine ad (above), by removing his knee, the lower shadow took on the appearance of a dress which, by association, transformed the dreadlocks into the knots and folds of a head scarf.
On an unrelated note, the other night when I couldn’t sleep I stepped outside and walked across the lawn to shoot the moon between the branches of our big black walnut tree.
Just as I reached out to open the front door, a man made his way along the street. Dressed head to toe in khaki, middle-aged, he creeped me the fuck out. I mean it was 2:30. Maybe I shouldn’t have read Stephen King’s The Outsider?
After dinner while K watched a taped Patriots game, I made a slideshow. It’s in the middle of the post. A few stills follow.
But first the original collages of the running girl. In them, her urgent need to escape emerged from the iterations. The double/triple exposures that form the basis of the slideshow, seemingly of their own accord, continue that feeling. The way she comes in and out of view heightens the sense of imminent harm and also, perhaps, points to the way trauma damages one’s ability to stay in the body.
I couldn’t sleep last night. Eventually got up and read. I came across an article about Emmett Till which you can read here.
Short version: a journalist hired to write about Till’s murder for Life Magazine (this was after the two men were acquitted), couldn’t get releases from two OTHER murderers, so he just WROTE THEM OUT OF THE STORY.
The journalist could be tried (could have been? Sorry, it was 3:00 in the morning) for accessory to murder after the fact.
The current article makes plain that not only was it journalistic malpractice and very possibly illegal, the omission generated more terror in the Black community than had they known there’d been four perpetrators.
If two men were capable of THAT, what’s next?
Maybe the sense of haunting had something to do with the twentieth anniversary of 9/11. K and I watched a Frontline episode — America After 9/11. Oh my god the lying politicians. The lazy press. It underscored a pithy tweet I read which said that we would have been better off as a country if we had literally done nothing.
The personal impact of the tragedy is rendered beautifully in this memoir piece: Hero by Liz Ackert.
Four of the hijackers spent their last night on earth in a discount hotel less than a mile down the road.
The place has long since been torn down.
P. S. Just went back and found a post about dreams the week before 9/11. And a Tarot card pulled (The Tower). Interesting to look back. A little haunting.
K went into the office this morning and Finn and I accompanied him to the T. The cool gray 7:00 am hour was quiet. Pleasant. And, since I didn’t really sleep last night, it was good to get the walk in before I crump.
Came home, vacuumed studio and then cranked out a few collages. The clean up and organizing around here is gaining momentum. Garage and basement. Ooh boy! This rhododendron-hand collage has two sides. In part, this represents the long-standing quilter’s appreciation for the “other” side of compositions. It’s also a result of watching with curious interest as Jude creates two-sided quilts — each side with composed patchwork, the stitching going through.
I’m liking torn edges and learning to place dark colors under them to showcase them. When flipping a collage over, I find the serendipity of the other side of magazine pages fun — in this instance, the dishes in the lower left. Here, I made two variations of the rhodie/bubble digital collage and then split up a single Natl Geo page of an ancient sculpture. So the two sides are thematically related.
I’d already been working on the photo of bubbles provided by the Paris Collage Collective this week, using — what else? — house images. There are : some old photos of a house form stenciled in reverse on a page of the NYTimes, a collage from Acey’s 2019 prompts and, in one of them, a red version color xerox of a collage creates in SF of a Northampton house I lived in. Further down, are variations using three different house quilts.
We might get as much as one inch of rain an hour starting this afternoon. But it isn’t likely we’ll lose power. It took SIX TRUCKS working all day to repair the toppled street light and busted transformer around the corner that I mentioned recently. I cannot begin to imagine how long it’s gonna take Louisiana.
Communications seems to be up as an issue right now. My own and others’ blunders. Expectations dashed, then revised. Opinions yanked around. Sometimes I just want to crawl into a hole and suck my thumb.