photo to Collage, The Sparrow Story

it rode around in my Blackberry, then my laptop, and ultimately in my head for two years. I d seen the birds one February roosting on the cart handles as I drove into the parking lot. I thought what a great photo that would be. Then, of course, once I got out of the car, they lifted off. I forgot about them until we were checking out. I ran over to the window hoping against hope some would have landed again. They had. Just whipped the BB up and clicked it. Then for two years I pondered the composition. I did an acrylic abstract of them which has nothing to do with the photograph. Was disappointed… though everybody likes the abstract. Then I worked a stylized bird motif kind thing in my sketchbook, just filling the paper with the shapes of their bodies. I liked that but knew not what to do with it next. Maybe it should be a poem. No. Lots of time passed, many events, other artworks and writings left my fingers and every once in a great while, I’d pass the page in the old sketchbook with the stylized flock of birds drawn in flight. Sunday morning I got up at 9:30 like a normal weekendy person. Took the dog out, fed, dog, cat and fish while my coffee brewed. suspected nothing. Stirred in my creamer and sweetener. Was still back in my pjs feeling sort of uncomfortable. The next thing I know, in answer to Sallie Bailey’s inquiry as to how long did it stay neat, I was moving through the house like a dervish automaton. Dragging tissue paper out of a desk drawer, assembling ModPodge and rubber cement, a collection of scissors, leaving sagged open drawers & doors to root for the origami paper, a pencil without a broken lead and where was I going to set up the sketchbook to look at the drawing while I put this together? I guess it was 9:45 ish. I slathered and clipped, ripped, cut and tore. I also realized I had to draw on the back of the origami paper in mirror images. I forget why but I did not question it. By 1:30 or 2 in the afternoon, I sweated through my clothing. as I worked I could feel it roll down my spine. I listened to Adele’s 21, Ceelo Greene’s “Crazy”, Phil Phillips singing “Home”. Lady Gaga and the Bad Romance as the ModPodge coated my fingers. In a last ditch attempt at the carts, I grabbed tin foil from the drawer in the kitchen and cut a roundish fish shaped blob and glued it to the bottom of the collage. Instantly hated it. I was still uncomfortable thinking of failed love affairs, hurtful memories, and was I ridiculous to even bother with art.?I also felt like my 9 year old self at that storied art table of the pebbly surface pitted with old paint and glue. I was behaving just as that child had. Instead of wasting time on the self censor which I tried to over ride with the music and lyrics, I just stopped whatever else I’d been doing (eating breakfast) and let the moment of creative inspiration seize me. By 5 o’clock in the evening, I still hated the foil fish blob so I ripped some more paper and glued over it. during this whole process, the table disappeared under the load of tissue as did the couch, the easy chair nearby and half a dozen spaces in between. The dog and cat sensibly went under the bed. People find the composition “colorful.” I think I want to cut it up in portions because some of it I really like. As a whole, not so much. Was it worth the attempt? oh, yes. Nothing surprised me more than carrying a photo memory in my head for two years and then in a matter of hours, finishing an artistic rendering of it. If nothing else, I made room in my head by cleaning out that old image.


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2 Responses to “photo to Collage, The Sparrow Story”

  1. clover58 Says:

    Ah, the agony of an artist!

  2. clover58 Says:

    Reblogged this on Clover's pages and commented:
    Art work takes many trails to completion!

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