A while ago I cut out a bunch of photos to do a collection of "SoulCollages"--basically a collection of cards that represent different aspects of yourself. So in a frenzy, I went through all the magazines and books I had at the time and cut out these different images. Like many things with me, that particular project fell by the wayside and so I have all of these great images lying around. This one is that coy part of me. Darvin knows this side well, although others would probably be astonished to know that such a side exists and would be on the floor laughing at the notion. The title "When She Keeps Him Waiting" is from my ever-faithful companion, Letitia Baldrige and her book of Etiquette. I'm pretty sure that she did NOT mean the kind of waiting that this photo implies. Then again, given her advice that only fiances and sisters should visit service men on base, perhaps she did.  

A few months ago I bought this book, "Her Unborn Child," at my favorite 2nd hand bookstore on South Street. I'm playing around now with my first altered book project, collaging into the book some of the things women think about when they dream of their babies when their pregnant. This is my first attempt, although I am a little worried about the fragility of the pages.  

OK, as usual, the ones that I mess up end up being the ones I like the most. I had glued on some elements to this one that I ended up really NOT liking. So I tore them off. Then when I did the scan and the tiling, I was able to really play up the ripped areas of the collage. I also like the varying blues contrasted against the sepia tones of the photo. As usually happens in my life, it's the things I screwed up that end up the best in the end. 

This is a piece of a collage. I decided this morning to try using my old journals to practice with altered book techniques. Or maybe it's just repurposing. I thought for a while about having a huge bonfire with my old journals, those reams and reams of self-pity and confusion that accumulated over the past few years. Now that it feels like I'm finally moving out of that place, I want to drop that psychic load somewhere. For now I'm going to play with them. I could still end up burning them in a bonfire though.  

This is a strange juxtaposition, really. The kind of faith a woman like this would have I don't see being confined to a building like this church. The map behind it gives a sense of how her faith is more expansive than that, has traveled many more roads. I added the light near the church with my paint program. I like the effect, although it's probably a little obvious. But that's me--not always subtle.
 

This is almost completely digital. I created a background and then temporarily placed some elements on it for the scan. Then I used tiling, cut/paste, and some cropping to get to this. I like the ghostly image of the woman's eye at the bottom left.  

Apparently I have a theme going this evening, with the whole night sky thing. Maybe it's our entering into fall and the way that the night begins to take over my psyche at this time of year. The silver halo . . . when I was gluing the woman onto the collage, some extra matte medium squeezed out around her head and I liked the look of that, so I painted in a halo. Of course, we begin to see why I do collage and I don't paint . . .  

And a version without the woman . . . Darvin just reminded me that he was the first person to encourage me to explore collage as art, telling me that he thought I had talent. I told him that he's the main reason that I did anything beyond using collage as a sort of alternative to journalling, so he gets major kudos for pushing me to explore the possibilities. Of course, that's been his major role in my life.  

As always, another version . . .  

It's been days since I did anything, so it was kind of a relief to create something. And as Darvin just said to me, "It's pretty positive. None of the usual bitterness and hatred coming through." True, although that's because I saved it for my fellow travelers over the past several days. It feels good to do something dreamy after being surrounded by hostility and arrogance for the past few weeks.  

Cropped and tiled, I like how this refocuses things onto the "Invitation" and how the two images are juxtaposed with one another.  

I enjoyed having the 18th century couple gazing up at the very erotic 21st century couple, as if wondering what they're up to. I imagined them feeling the "regrets" of the title, while at the same time feeling an invitation for something more.  

Different than what I've been working on recently--more stark and sort of modern. Not sure how much I like it.  

This is another collage that is best as a digital image. I find that I can do things digitally that I really can't do physically, like being able to make the woman's face ghostly around the edges but still strong enough for the collage. I also like the option of various frames as they allow me to fade and focus much more easily.  

Darvin and I talked for a while today about my history of sexual abuse and it's impact on the rest of my life. The picture of the girl captures a quality of vulnerable sexuality that I often feel--both adult and childlike at the same time. To the left of her is a strip of a daVinci painting that seems to be a younger child looking on, somehow even more vulnerable than the girl, who at least carries a veneer of adulthood to protect her. "Questions of Payment" seemed a good title for this--I still have many questions about what I've paid and what he should pay.  

Apparently I'm fascinated by the possiblities of variation. This one has a completely different feel to it, with the focus on the scenery rather than on the woman's face. 

Vintage photos are really interesting--the poses, the "looks" that women favored. It's interesting, too, to see how our standards of beauty have changed. Many of these women are more interesting looking than what we consider to be conventionally attractive, although this woman certainly qualifies as beautiful. I found the "The Stranger at a Wedding" line from my old Emily Post Etiquette book, which contains some fairly hilarious references to what is considered to be acceptable behavior. I'm assuming a mysterious woman in red would NOT be welcome at an Emily Post wedding. 

Here's another version--tiling and cropping removed the woman. 

This one I like a lot, although it's more "pretty" than "edgy" or trying to communicate something. I guess tonight I'm more interested in NOT exploring my darker side. Darvin just looks at these and says, "I'm trying to figure out your style." I think the answer is that I don't really have a style, that I prefer to just go back and forth in different ways, depending on my mood. 

Another variation . . . more tiling. I like the shadowy effect of the women at the corners.  

It doesn't hurt that the women are actually a close-up from a DaVinci. I'd like to think I added a little something to this, but when you're dealing with a master, it's kind of hard to mess it up. 

Here's another version--tiled and with a sunburst illumination from Paint Pro that gives this a heavenly quality. 

"Do you have themes for your collages," Darvin asked me. "No," I said. Well, at least I generally don't start with a theme--those have been my worst collages, actually. My best ones are a series of accidents and ways that things seem to fit together on a canvas. In this case, I did the background and then when I placed the woman on the page, she seemed to be leaning on the lighter area of the collage. The object she appears to be looking at, the piece of paper that says "Her Unborn Child," is a scrap I had lying around from a previous collage. It seemed to pull things together and leave some ambiguity here that I like.