Collage

Lately, I've been seeing a lot of mixed media projects.  Some of the collages look a little too busy for me but I saw this YouTube video (http://vimeo.com/12756256) and liked the results. I decided to give it a try.

My subject matter was a visit to my friend's cabin in Oregon.  I arranged my reversed photo images (laser printer, regular printer paper) and Oregon encyclopedia pages on an 8 x 10 canvas covered board (purchased at Michael's):

Arrangement

Using matte medium I attached encyclopedia pages to the board, then added color with both acrylic paint and soft pastels:

Background

For some reason, I trimmed down one of the photos and regretted it but was too lazy to print another one.  I brushed matte medium on the front of the photos and applied them to the background face down, using a brayer and whatever else I could find to make sure they were firmly attached:

Adding photos

The hard part was leaving it to dry overnight.  The fun part was removing the paper.  I brushed water over the photographs and slowly began to rub the paper off of the prints.  I used my fingers but on the YouTube video it looks like the guy is using a sandpaper block.  I had to use moderate pressure so I was glad I didn't use stretched canvas because I think it might have warped:

Removing paper

I didn't really like the overall results so I decided it would be my experimental sample, giving me an excuse to try more techniques.  I added some leaves using modeling paste and stencils.  I let the modeling paste dry and then painted the shapes:

Adding and painting shapes

Next time I'll try to simplify the look by using only one photograph with less detail.  I'll also simplify my colors and maybe work a little on scale:

End Result

The whole process was fun and I'll definitely try again.

Resources and other ideas:

http://www.alternativephotography.com/wp/processes/transfers-and-lifts/mixed-media-collage-and-photo-transfer-to-canvas)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJMVwXJv5z8

http://vimeo.com/12756256

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoFSRbW_ZoY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfMq_F-4Hbs&feature=fvwp

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CB75ZLvLHb8

  

What is Life?

The other day I got into a discussion with a friend about life (deep, huh?).

My friend said that life is so structured and rule-bound, that it is our job as individuals to fight the rules and expectations as much as possible so we don't get pushed into conformity.

I have always thought of life as big and messy and that it's our job as individuals to find a small corner of the world in which to build an organized and ordered space for ourselves.

What do you think?  How do you see the world?  Is it one of rules that you must fight against, or is it one of infinite possibilities that you have to make sense of?

The Process

I've always heard and truly believed that "It's the process not the product" and "It's the journey, not the destination."  However, in our culture (and in my life), that's easier said than done.

When I began taking violin lessons, I imagined myself playing in the local symphony.  When I began playing volleyball I imagined myself being the star on the team.  When I joined www.nanowrimo.org I was going to be Oprah's next book club pick.  Spanish classes were going to make me bilingual, running would draw admiration as I won a 5K, and art classes at the senior center would result in people clamoring to purchase my paintings.

You get my drift.

All of these dreams might have been reasonable if I had been, say, eight years old.  But I began this life-changing journey, searching for my one and true amazing talent, when I was well into my 40s.  I'm an old dog trying to learn new tricks.  That's not to say I don't have some amazing hidden talent.  It's just that at this stage, it might stay hidden.

Last summer, for the first time in at least a year, all four of my adult children were living within a 100 mile radius of me.  My daughter wanted something to hang on the walls of her new apartment, so we all got together and spent a couple of evenings painting with acrylic paints on blank canvas. We are not trained artists.  We are family.  We painted, laughed, talked, ate, and drank.  It has become one of my favorite family memories.

That experience led me to continue painting a couple of times a month with three friends and we have collectively completed seven paintings.  I provide the painting supplies and they provide the munchies.  Whenever we become too critical we remind ourselves that it's all for fun and repeat our mantra: "Don't let your mind sabotage your heart."

I paint until I'm happy with the result, and it doesn't matter if anyone else likes it (although the four of us are incredibly supportive).  I have a small room in our house where I have recently hung my finished paintings.  I don't care who sees them because each one is a reminder of the joy of the experience.

And to test my new attitude, guess what I just brought home.

Angel in the Bathroom

At age 32 I had decided to return to school and was accepted by a local university about 15 miles from my house.  I would begin slowly, taking only one introductory class that first quarter, since I was due to have my third baby in August and school started in September.

On a hot day near the end of summer I took my newborn daughter Anna with me to the university to register.  My oldest son was at school and my middle son stayed with a neighbor.  I toted Anna on a front carrier made from heavy red fleece, and wore a large diaper bag over my shoulder, which contained baby products and registration paperwork.

I was exhausted and my nerves were frazzled.  My newborn was waking up to be breastfed every couple of hours and I wasn't getting much sleep.  I was nervous about going back to school; things like finding my way around campus and knowing where to park had me worried that I had taken on more than I could handle. I wondered why I was putting myself through this.  I could be home with my baby, relaxing and playing with my two year old, waiting to pick up my five year old from school.  But there I was with my tiny baby strapped to my chest, tired and sweaty, waiting in long lines to register for my one class.

I had breastfed and changed Anna in the parking lot when I arrived at the university, hoping that she would sleep until I could feed and change her in the car when I was finished.  After waiting in the first registration line, I realized that Anna's diaper needed changing.  I left the crowded, noisy, room and found a restroom.  I squeezed into a corner next to the sink, put a blanket on the concrete floor and began changing my fussy daughter.  Gorgeous young women breezed in and out with their carefree lives in tow.

I was a selfish mother.  My brand new baby was on the floor of a public restroom.  I tried not to make eye contact with the young coeds as they came and went but felt judged and out of place.  Then a tall woman with dark wavy hair entered the restroom.  She wore a blue skirt and a white tank top and looked to be in her mid 40s.  She smiled and commented on my baby as I squatted on the floor.  She asked if I was a student.  I told her I was registering for my first class that quarter.

"You're doing the right thing," she said to me.  "Your baby will be fine."  She stopped and looked at me.  "Listen," she said, and waited until I looked up over my shoulder at her, "you're doing the right thing."

I took a deep breath.  "Thank you," I said.