Morning darklings,
Recently, my friend wanted to have a collage party. She found a book about the many different types, fell in love, and wanted her friends to join her in her creative endeavor.
I’ve done all kinds of art over the years—collage being one I loved for a time, falling out of favor for jewelry made of matchboxes and glass. If I was going to go back, play in a way I haven’t in a long time, I wanted to be silly about it.
Alas, fate had a different goal in mind.
Another friend who collects ephemera from days gone by had a bunch of extra Life magazines from the 60s. He gave them to me over a year ago. Finally, I had a reason to use them.
I opened page after page of the world’s largest magazine (probably not, but it was almost newspaper-sized). I wanted to cut out anything pretty, funny words, random objects in advertisements. And sure, I did that. But mostly, I found a narrative about women and their perceived place in the world.
Over the period of a month, I cut pieces out of this stack. My hands can only handle so long with scissors, so it was a slow process. But with each figure or object or word I clipped, I felt the collage moving towards something. It was commentary, it was emotional, it was feminist.
I noticed the bits piling up and decided I would make multiple collages. The thought was thrilling in one way, daunting in another, and frustrating in a third. I didn’t want to hang these, just make them. Or maybe I did, but the idea of having page after page of collage on my wall wasn’t appealing.
We talked about notebooks. One nice notebook and fill it. It was a good idea, I loved it, but I didn’t want to spend money. There’s something about creation without involving capitalism that speaks to me. Also, I’m broke, and a fancy notebook didn’t make the budget.
Last year, IKEA sent out their behemoth catalog. I kept it because the pages were nice and sturdy. I thought I could use them for my miniatures. Instead, I decided to use it as my notebook. Recycle, embrace the chaos of whatever was on each page and either cover it or play with it. The challenge was what I needed.
In between stories, taking a breather from the written word just long enough to miss my work and want to go back and edit it, I like to do something. Normally, I fill those lull periods with short stories or essays. I find more peace when I make art, when I allow my fingers to take a break from the same pushing of keys, switch to a tactile medium of creation, make something physical that takes up space in both the world and my heart.
At the party, gathering, group of creative women being creative, we all asked what we were going to make. The friend who started the party had a sense of hers, having clipped things ahead of time too. The other women wanted to go with the flow. They brought art supplies upon art supplies, of which we didn’t use much.
Older collages of mine have wax or resin, buttons and beads and metal bits soldered together. But this time, we all stuck close to images and words, rather than add pizazz.
This same friend and I went to the art museum a week after the party. Collages hung on the walls in a room filled with other mixed media art. One was brilliant, changing what you saw when you were up close or far away, using color and religious iconography. The others didn’t command that same presence—interesting, though they were.
We talked about how we hadn’t done a bad job. Maybe, just maybe, ours were good, and maybe, just maybe, we are good at collage. And if, by art’s standards, we didn’t stack up, they were still beautiful, and we should make more.
She has ideas piled up, but I just finished my collection. Perhaps I’ll do more, perhaps not. The itch has been scratched, but life is long, and I still have so much of the IKEA catalog to fill.
*The two photos of nude women are from medical books—one has elephantiasis, the other has dermatographia, which causes raised marks. Despite appearances, she is only a victim of her own body’s betrayal; it is not a photo of violence.
Below: The cover and a sample of the 23 pages in the book.
What are your thoughts on collage? And have you ever made a collage? If so, what mediums did you use?
Until next time, harness the Little darknesses and embrace the Little things.