Archives for posts with tag: collage

Day Sixty-Two/Image Sixty-Two

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

About a year ago, the son of a good friend of mine suggested I do a blog as part of my new website. I was fascinated at the time. I needed a new website and I consulted with him because I knew this guy is in the business of working with computers. ( Who isn’t? But this guy really is.)

It was a Thanksgiving chat and all was mellow. I didn’t give the blog much thought, except for the “live” aspect of it. What had been a static website before, showing my artworks in a gallery row, updating it from time to time, I was thrilled at the prospect of a blog. He said “People will come to your shows! You can post your work in progress!”

Now, eight months later, after hanging in with this blog, bumbling along and spending many obsessive/compulsive hours, its worth is sweet! It is like a still pool, where the depth is indeterminable. I have met many people this way. I don’t know them, but we tell each other stuff that makes my life richer. I learn about things I never would have cared to access. But I find these things more than interesting.

At any rate: Thanks, Sam Cook, for your suggestion!

Day Sixty-One/Image Sixty-One

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

In a few days, it will be Halloween. I believe in working with nature, when decorating my yard. I’ll put up some Indian corn on the door, a pumpkin on the step, things like that. After dark, on Halloween night, my husband sets up a haunted house. It disappears mysteriously the next day.

But as other yards whiz by while I am running around in my car, I am forced to look at these huge, very huge inflatable Halloween pirate ships and ghosts, made of plastic and bright colors. Yesterday I saw an inflatable black cat the size of the bungalow in which is has to be stored off-season. Not only defying nature, but overcoming it. A Macy’s Day Parade balloon right there in broad daylight.

I prefer to keep my oversized creatures in my collages, not on my front lawn.

Day Thirty-Six/Image Thirty-Six

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Day Twenty-Two/Image Twenty-Two

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Image twenty-two (got the number right this time) is probably my least favorite of the one hundred collages in the installation. Of course, the stats on WordPress, if they are accurate, will show that everyone likes this one the best, as has been my experience before.

I don’t know why. I just think I should redo it. Add some people. Put in an urban background . Mix it up a little. I was on my “round-things-are-light-and-airy” phase of doing these collages. Before I slipped back into tidal waves and destruction.

Maybe if I had a tidal wave in the background coming at the ruins, it would be more to my liking……

Day Twenty-Three/Image Twenty-Three

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

No computer manipulation, as I mentioned before. No internet images. This one was difficult to do because of the different types of paper used. And the glue corresponding to the different types of paper.

Other than that, little to say except it was one of my first, and I was trying to get away from my natural disaster subject matter. Bubbles and a baby were to replace tornadoes and floods. Sweeter was the intent. The result?

Day Twenty-Three/Image Twenty-Three

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Tiny Drawings

Refrigerator Art.

There is really nothing creative about people tacking things up on their refrigerators. It’s so common, it’s boring.

But I wanted to share some tiny little drawings I unearthed while cleaning our space out. (Still have not found a home for those Martha Stewarts I have collected since the first issue. Prison years included.)

These drawings are done by my family. some by my daughter when she was very little, some by me and one very odd and indescribable animal head drawn by my husband. I put them on the refrigerator in a little grouping, not really knowing where else to put them: They are so small.

A person could look at them as similar to those words that were popular years back. Those words you could string together and make a poem.

Maybe my collection of tiny drawings is like that.