Obsession really. I made another mini-movie but I know WordPress won’t upload it. So here are some pix from it put together in mosaic groups or singly, instead.
It’s rainy. This was the second hottest July on record. I didn’t walk at all today, but there were pancakes on the side porch (not on the patio because neighbors had a bday party in their backyard), two crossword puzzles, kitchen counter bleaching. I talked shop with another author. Visited a local friend and sat out on her back porch. Tea. Apricot jam and crackers.
So sad that HBO’s Perry Mason is over. It was intense, stylish, well-acted with interesting takes on what Mason’s backstory might’ve looked like.
But Endeavour is on, so that’s good.
I ran out of olive oil today so put in a second grocery order with Amazon fresh. I am certain I shall go to carbon footprint hell for all the packaging. It’s bad. I’m bad. And at the same time, I feel like I might never grocery shop again.
Cold enough for down coat, hat, and gloves for the morning’s dog walk. I feel a little about spring as I do about Bernie. How grateful I’d be if he dropped out! How grateful I’d be if we had a warm, sunny day! I anticipate the lush riches of spring with a heightened need this year — unfurling maple leaves, nodding daffodils, the bold tulips and magnolias. All this time spent looking out windows framing grey, taupe, and dun!
This morning’s writing class was marred by technical difficulties. I breathed through it. Wrote through it.
Here are some double exposures I created two nights ago. The constant image is the star-adorned wooden box that used to house my sister’s Aquarian Tarot deck. The other images include: dome interior from Rome, a statue of the Virgin from San Rufino cathedral in Assisi, a quilt, a garden bowl of water.
My remoulade bombed. It looked like cat puke in the chowder. Not at all what I was hoping for!
Tomorrow, we pick up a $30 box of produce in the Fenway, an effort organized by a place called “The Neighborhood.” I want to support small markets and local farmers to the extent I can, so there is more sourcing to do here.
Off for a nap! Hope you all are managing as best you can. I’m not looking for silver linings at the moment, but I wonder if this experience will help me develop patience.
You might not know how much of my psyche is wrapped up with wondering what it’s like to become an adult right now, particularly as a man.
I don’t realize the depth of this preoccupation myself until I start making collages.
Example: the SoulCollage card above. There are LOTS of examples.
For obvious reasons, climate emergency comes up. It is really hard to imagine 15 years out.
I glued a lot of paper into the book after dinner tonight, slitting compositions in half or thirds to fit on the page where need be. This will allow me to use remnants to create unifying repetitions.
Below is another one of my slide shows. I don’t know why this satisfies me so much. I don’t expect it to satisfy you. It’s worth noting that this process is NOTHING like working with cloth. I read Grace’s post just now where she draws parallels between cloth and paper and they are there for the finding. This is not that.
It’s is fun to play along and play along I shall with Acey over at sparklinglotusink. “Collage month” might describe March for me or December or any random June. I make a lot of collages, in other words.
But still. Although I don’t plan to make a booklet, I am going to play with her prompts. I’m also obsessed currently with making teeny slide shows using digitally layered collages. Bear with me or skip. Feel free to comment on still images only.
Below is the complete collage. Vertical format could be converted to a SoulCollage card later. For the deck, I make color copies both so I can noodle with scale and to produce an image that’s smooth.
CUT THREE CIRCLES was the prompt.
There’s the text from some psych journal.
The vintage fire cart wheel lower right.
And the chicken eye.
I ended up using two strips of orange along the side that were sliced from a SoulCollage card that featured a BIG face. Part of the eyebrow and eye socket came along and I filled them out with scraps. I love how a FIG offered good contours. Another grouping of circles assembled.
I’m not sure where those well dressed silhouettes are gathered. Deb thought it might be Grand Central. I think it might be somewhere in Europe. Sometimes I track sources. Sometimes not.
(UPDATE: Deb was right. She just sent me this confirming photo:)
Tree trunks, an ad for Coach dog collars (the grommets as well as the bright orange blocks on the side) and more grapes and figs make up the rest.
The woman with her old-time device is the heart of the story. The highlighted words “her mother/ memory might” ended up acting as directive. A serviceable title. The ladder also holds a lot of power here.
Her mother / memory might
We wonder what she is doing on her device. What links or letters tapped? To whom does she address her words or is this a private entry? In my dream, she is abroad, perhaps a member of the Peace Corps, living simply, maybe even in hardship. To bring water to others. Or food. Or sewing machines. Her sweater, a lovely Aryan, is a serviceable token of her “real” life. Or is it her former life?
Slide show below. One minute.
Three or four SoulCollage cards appear, along with a page from one of The Sketchbook Projects (“what will haunt you?”). The virgin dwells at Magnolia Plantation, SC, and you’ll see the pennant I made for Mo’s “love is the answer” project.
Speaking of Mo and Australia, this is a photo I captured off a news source last night. These people are gathered on a beach, evacuated because of the fires, with nowhere to go except INTO THE WATER.