Tag Archives: SoulCollage

What counts as good news

Maddow on pause because I just can’t take anymore right now. And you know, it’s not just the onslaught of breaking, awful news, it’s also (and this happens frequently), the disorientation that arises when a big scoop turns out to be something we’ve heard before, maybe even more than once and often over a year ago (recent example, David Farenthold’s Washington Post story on trump’s hypocritical dependence on immigrants without legal status at his various businesses).*

Before pausing the news just now, I learned the identity of this MAGA-hat guy that I used on a SoulCollage card as a stand-in for the rot that trump has exposed. Turns out he’s the worst of the worst. He’s Andrew Anglin, founder of the Daily Stormer website, terrorist extraordinaire. He was one of the organizers of the Charlottesville protest two years ago. He’s a Holocaust denier who advocates Jewish genocide and has an army of like-minded white nationalists at his disposal. The Southern Poverty Law Center calls him “a prolific Internet troll and serial harasser.”

Well — judges in three recent high profile cases have awarded Anglin’s victims damages.

If you remember, these are the kinds of law suits that the Southern Poverty Law Center filed to good effect against klansman years ago.

The imposition of damages on white nationalists and their organizations counts as GOOD NEWS, particularly since we now know that the Department of Justice cannot be relied upon any longer to do the right thing (the legal, moral thing). As long as these cases come before judges appointed in the pre-trump era, we can hope for more satisfying outcomes.

* in reading the Washington Post piece this morning, I can appreciate what’s hopeful there, too, actually.

In a world where Democrats are slow-walking the impeachment process, we can look to state courts for interim justice. They have to be courts out of the reach of AG Barr, of course, but since they are, they’re also courts not bound by the OLC memo prohibiting indictment of a sitting president AND their judgments cannot be subject to presidential pardon power. Surely state laws are being broken by not only hiring undocumented immigrants but in instructing them in where and how to get fake papers.

Meanwhile K arrived home from his 49th trip to China last night and I’m off to Western Mass. tomorrow for a writing retreat. I kinda wish I was staying home honestly.

Lastly, what good news have you to report? I’ll start: CBD oil seems to be helping with my joints!

Collaging to the news

Soul Collage, when you listen to back podcasts of the news, can’t help but feature the vulnerable.

This next one came in response to a story that keeps coming back, not unlike a virulent STD. I’ve included a close up to make the reference clear, but since the script is still small, let me tell you. After one line, find penned two words, “altar boys.”

And because Halloween is about a week away, this next one.

I also spent a considerable amount of time clearing about six square feet of floor. Wish there was a “before” picture but you’ll just have to take my word for it. The recycling bin will be full this week.

Question: what are you guys doing to stay sane in these last days leading up to the midterms? I’ve got my weekly call with my Indivisible group and postcards. Tomorrow a friend and I will hit 200.

A fire is nice, too.

Joy where it comes


The Royal Wedding. Sneakers that fit and offer support. Really good homemade gluten free cookies. Lilacs. Lichen. The strength to push a lawnmower. Friends to see movies with. Movies. Social media (yes, even that).

Honeysuckle. Flying overhead: a robin with twigs in her beak (or is it plastic?) landing at the crook of two branches, building her nest. Good books.

A coyote crossing the street at 6:30 in the morning, pausing to look at Finn and me. Disappearing behind Daniella’s place. Finn. Cloth and gifts of cloth (thank you Deb and Ginny!!)

And SoulCollage. Here’s a card made, believe it or not, while constructing the burning infernos and dark fields (actually, I started it months ago and only glued it up this week).

I am the one who adores the wind and the sky and anything that plays with the wind in the sky. I adore red — how it pops and dances. I launch kites — and images and ideas, too. My element is air; my status freewheeling. I am the one who is not afraid to be silly or stand on the edge of a chair.

American Horror

Two things.

Sometimes the most potent collages are made by combining only two images.

And, sometimes you want to transmute the underlying image and sometimes, like here, you want it to stand for what it is. The bee-comb head is an ad for the TV show American Horror Story. I haven’t kept up with the series so I can’t tell you what’s up with the bees, but I can hardly think of a better way to name the gun carnage and political failure we face than: American Horror Story.

(PS. Made this SoulCollage Card two days ago but given how often mass shootings happen in this country, it’s not particularly prescient).

Stunned

I need to slash and swipe and rip and adhere in big gestures right now and I lack the medium.

Writing is going, in case your wondering. So is quilting. But maybe an interlude of collage is in order. It’s not as fast as I would like but does come together more quickly than some writing or most quilting.

In SoulCollage circles they recommend an exercise to plumb the meaning of your collaged image. Of course any one image can have many meanings even for the same viewer depending on time and place. But the exercise is a useful one.

Looking at the card, fill in the statement, “I am the one who… “. This harkens back to therapeutic exercises I’ve done over the years — the gestalt process of speaking from various parts of self and Jungian dream work where each object and player in a dream is given voice.

So here goes for the top two (BTW, the silhouettes were made by cutting around the seated black man, so they are three versions of the same figure).

Card with the arch: we are the ones making the steep climb toward the light. The keepers of the faith. The reporters. The prosecutors. The community activists. Even those glued to the television refusing to let the most recent overwhelming mind bending and egregious acts slide by without notice can be credited with making the ascent. Look how steep the stairs!

Card with black man facing forward: I am the one who sees you and sees everyone and bears witness. I am haloed by history and backed by mountain ranges. Light is my friend. I have huge hands, an unflinching gaze, and more humanity than the average dozen people combined. Nothing you say or do has much to do with me. Nothing, really. There was a time I would’ve run for the hills with so much chaos unfolding, but not now. I see you and I see everyone and I bear witness.

Redemption and damnation

It’s hard not to think about redemption and damnation these days, almost routinely, like how we used to ponder nest eggs or outfits. Here are two collages that try to capture these extremities.

Redemption collage: “100 Years of Reflecting the Future”. The caption came from an ad in the centennial issue for Women’s Wear Daily —  a subscription purchased with airline miles. Believe it or not, I really enjoyed the industry rag, partly because my mother used to get it, partly because even though I’m a member of the fashion-impaired tribe (and the “I don’t really give a fuck” club), clothing cannot get away from the fact that it’s constructed from cloth, which as you know, I love. Usually, the magazine words I come across are distractions or reductive labels, but these were provocative, so they stayed.


This collage references the anatomical heart and aging and asks some big questions.

The collage asks: who will save us? What will save us? Can anything? What future? Can this moment in our history be redeemed? Are there powerful forces of good in the ethers, and if so, how could they have so badly let the American people down?

Damnation collage. The figure below is damned for so many reasons. For one, she’s ill prepared for the elements. For another, in a landscape of grief and disaster, her concern for her appearance seems particularly superficial. She is stylish for sure, but seemingly ignorant of the rows and rows of graves behind her. And, can’t she smell the molten liquid burning up the landscape behind her? Someone needs to tell her that lava will not be at all impressed with her strappy sandals.