leap - authors x3b.jpg
3 duncan trees 7a.jpg
10 Beginning.jpg
12 swing.jpg
14 pastel 100 dpi.jpg
15 territory.jpg
17.5 Acrylic+4-10+035 at 95dpi.jpg
18 rocks+1+003.jpg
22 possibilities 90.jpg
21 colliphany 72.jpg
23 sask2 100.jpg
26 guitar 72.jpg
28 taught me how to see.jpg
3 duncan trees 7a.jpg

the disclaimer


Blook disclaimer

the disclaimer


Blook disclaimer

encaustic monotype collage

encaustic monotype collage

the disclaimer

Hello, my name is Rebecca and I am a collagoholic. I use scissors, glue, and curiosity to bring improbables dangerously close, let them loose to play – and I cannot control this compulsion. It is a way of being that touches everything. It may be that others so afflicted will benefit by exposing this condition.

Mira is fictional, and everyone else is impossibly real in their beauty.

The art and photography included are my configurations (unless noted) and the poetry is scissors and glue applied to other people's poetry phrases, much of it children's. On this Way, everything is repurposed, resurrected, reclaimed, resuscitated, rectified, renewed, and reconfigured.

10 Beginning.jpg

windy heart


Beginning

windy heart


Beginning

 
collage poetry encaustic monotype

collage poetry encaustic monotype

 
12 swing.jpg

the origins


the origins


encaustic monotype

encaustic monotype

the origins

Collage found Mira in the studio one day as she moved torn pieces of failed paintings around a blank page. No art resulted but in the stretching of time was joy.

She began to notice that what might look like chaos was really her way of being, that she had been living as Collage, incorporating the bits and bobs of a world into who she was, twisting and morphing as days came and went, people populating and moving on, ideas marching by, all of it shape shifting her very substance.

This notion would not let go of her as she saw how decades of life layered, patterned, sculpted, twizzled, and fooled with her being, such that she began to grasp that she wasn't just a “who” but also a “when” and a “where” depending on the context. She calls it The Way of Collage.

Accused of being superficial and lacking in depth because of her broad interests, she chooses to go deep in being shallow.

And this is what she notices as her life of Collage composes itself.

14 pastel 100 dpi.jpg

the map


the map


acrylic collage

acrylic collage

the map

There is no map for this territory, excepting an occasional found one for temporary use that might have just the right shade of green, or movement of contour lines. And besides it’s not really territory anyway so isn't accessible to flatland maps. Then there’s the time aspect too, but it’s not chrono or logical.

She had been on those big fat archeological digs excavating the past, but it was like trying to remove acrylic paint and images and it wasn't happening.

She preferred the move-forward-and-keep-adding-methodology. So as she laminated the paste, poetry, ink, scratches, paint, imprints, stencils, pencils, and texture, she noticed that  it really did have depth, in a building up sort of way rather than a tearing down and uncovering way. She was fine with that.

15 territory.jpg

the vision


the vision


acrylic

the vision

Reaping the benefits of aging, such as a certain invisibility, she morphed into one of those dusty grey potato shaped geode rocks you find languishing in the desert, that inside are dazzling crystal fire ... a sparkling party.  This carousing is what happens when ideas, explorations, imaginings, and curiosities occupy a small space. Ba da Boom, whoopee! 

17.5 Acrylic+4-10+035 at 95dpi.jpg

the direction


the direction


acrylic collage

acrylic collage

the direction

So, on this Way, the way forward is ….. ahem, Forward. There are no backsies, only next, then Next, and finally and always NEXT. Which also means a lot of new, and most of all huge territory of I don’t know and what the !*&^?


This might appear to contradict the NOW Hypothesis, which she would never do, so instead she holds these NOW and NEXT inconsistencies in the way that opposing images are allowed to frolic in the midst of a collage painting, right under her nose, hamming it up together, teasing with their inconsistencies ...  while she chooses a response.

18 rocks+1+003.jpg

the speed


the speed


digital

digital

the speed

She learned the hard way that the only speed on The Way that feels the substance of the moments as the palpable weight of a sleeping infant is slow and slower. The old sands-of-distraction-slipping-through-fingers pace leaves her hands longing and a mess on the floor.

22 possibilities 90.jpg

the grammar


the grammar


encaustic monotype

encaustic monotype

the grammar

She had long ago abandoned living as a noun since the way she unravels is more like verb or gerund - those tricky verb sounding nounish, subject/object, participle movement implying things.  She is gerunding . This is most excellent, as it begins with the home base, “I am," core of the deep contemplative practices. Now she is getting carried away with amming. How could she not?

21 colliphany 72.jpg

the colliphany


the colliphany


soul collage

soul collage

the colliphany

This I am recognition was a small Colliphany, her collage related epiphany.  For instance, when people ask if she is an artist or painter, she says, “no, I paint” but really a better description is “I am painting." She is process. That is exactly what The Way feels like. She loses herself in the enterprise, her zone of happy. The core of this Way.

23 sask2 100.jpg

the spirit


the spirit


pastel

pastel

the spirit

With no apology she feels the green fuse of beauty that feeds her motivation, connects her with a sense of wholeness, and bursts into song that can’t be contained.

26 guitar 72.jpg

the 10,000 hours


the 10,000 hours


acrylic

acrylic

the 10,000 hours

No problem with putting in the time to learn a skill, she thought. Her only challenge is the fact that the hours are spread over a dozen disciplines. Collage of non-expertise, sampling from life’s offerings in a temporary body, one that can’t settle on a singular activity.

28 taught me how to see.jpg

the practice


the practice


encaustic monotype

encaustic monotype

the practice

It’s Show Up Time on The Way! Everything counts. No rehearsals. No waiting for opening night, it’s all real. Might as well enjoy all those hours of learning. What a sweet relief!