Eibhlin – eibhlin, artist

Powerful/Create

My collages are intuitive. I never know what they’ll look like – or what they’ll mean (to me, anyway) – until they’re finished.

This is very much that kind of torn-paper collage. It’s darker than my usual works, but in a mysterious, moody, “old money” way. It will look best matted and in a very sophisticated gold leaf frame.

The references almost surprised me, with a nod to Florida (maybe) and misty swamps, plus travel – to Maine and around the world – with notes such as “powerful,” “create,” “play,” and “exceptional.”

If this were a painting, I’d add gold leaf to it. But, as a torn-paper collage, I’m leaving it as-is. It’s a very powerful piece in real life, and I’m both pleased and astonished by it.

Chance/Explore

Here’s what I wrote when I created this art:

In a hotel room in Maine, still “on the road” as we move to New England, I’m making torn-paper collages again.

This one is very different from the torn-paper collages I was creating in Florida. It’s more vibrant. More animated.

My husband says it looks “happier.”

I agree.

The elements include brilliant colors, some hippie-style art, a Harry Potter reference, as well as flowers and foliage, the latter turned sideways.

I’m both pleased and surprised by this.

Lake Winnisquam Sunrise – Triptych

This triptych has a history. Its current subject – Lake Winnisquam at dawn – was not its first incarnation.

Before I share the full story, covering several months, here’s a photo of the finished work. It’s an acrylic painting, and each of the three canvases is about 18″ x 24″.

Here’s my original photo from Oct 2014, when we stayed in a hotel. Our “room” was actually a cabin by the lake, one of several on the property.

Each morning, I’d go outside and take photos from the dock next to our cabin.

This photo still inspires me.

For this particular triptych, I wanted slightly more vivid colors, but a similar sense of calm, beauty, and peace.

The first attempt – the full-sized acrylic sketch

First, I sketched-in the general composition. I started with somewhat exaggerated colors and contrasts. (And I increased saturation in the printed photo I was working from.)

That helped me analyze the composition, color choices, and effects.

Here’s how it looked on 7 Jan 2021.

After the paint dried, I kept looking at it. It was okay, but… for me, not great. It was too literal in some ways, and didn’t convey the impression of light that I wanted.

Whenever I’m working on a painting, I study it to see what works and what doesn’t.

I notice what attracts my attention, and if that’s what I had in mind as I envisioned the piece.

Over the next eight months, this Winnisquam triptych went through many changes, similar to my painting for the Huntsville wedding.

Secrets under the paint…

To be honest, the now-finished Winnisquam scene is layered over three other triptych paintings… ones I didn’t like well enough to keep. (If I don’t like a painting, I won’t keep it around me.)

Two of the previous works were semi-abstract landscapes.

The third was a quirky, mixed media exercise in humor. I painted the canvases blue – from sky to ocean – and then glued slightly absurd Victorian images on the canvases.

I liked the idea (and my husband loved it) enough to keep one canvas from that experiment. That’s it, below. It’s now in our kitchen. My husband thinks we need to add speech balloons to it… with the critters saying ridiculous things, of course.

So then, before sketching the Lake Winnisquam scene, I replaced the now-in-the-kitchen canvas with a fresh, blank one. (This means two of the three canvases have some texture left from earlier paintings… but it’s not too obvious.)

More attempts and brighter colors

After the initial Winnisquam sketch, I tried other approaches to that sunrise scene. They didn’t work. Not for me, anyway. (I don’t think I took any photos of the results.)

Maybe it was a reflection (no pun intended) of how disappointing 2020 was, but nothing seemed quite right as I kept working on the canvases.

So, I stopped painting.

Then – I guess it was August or September 2021 – I decided to make changes. Quit waiting for… I’m not sure what.

I started to shift my focus back to my art.

That’s why, in the next phase of the Lake Winnisquam triptych (below), I highlighted the colors of the sky and the water. And then I drew (with pencil) the general area where the land – trees and mountains – should be.

As I kept working on it, the triptych looked like this, and it was pretty… but still… kind of “meh.”

This time, I wasn’t going to quit. I went back to basics – color and value studies.

Finding answers in 8″ x 10″ sketches

First, I tried some small (8″ x 10″) acrylic sketches on canvas board, to see what would emerge.

For starters, I altered the colors.

I kind of love the blue-green and pink in this sketch, but I wasn’t convinced it’d work as a triptych. (I may change my mind and use this for a large painting, later. I really do love the colors.)

Next, I did a more literal sketch from my original photo.

Again, it was nice, and this may later become a full-sized painting.

For the triptych… No, it wasn’t quite the light and energy I wanted in my living room.

Since these acrylic color studies weren’t solving my dilemma, it was time to do some value (light and dark) pencil sketches on paper. And then I simplified the composition.

After that, I did yet another acrylic sketch on a small canvas board (8″ x 10″), based on my final value study/sketch – and it worked.

I kind of love the results, and may paint a larger, semi-abstract version (almost exactly like this), soon.

So, at long last, I saw exactly what to improve.

Two days later, the triptych was completed.

Here it is again, so you can compare it with the final acrylic (value-based) sketch, immediately above this.

I’m very pleased with this painting. It brings light and color and energy to our living room. I smile every time I look at it.

And, of course, it’s a happy reminder of a truly spectacular month in a cabin by Lake Winnisquam, in October 2014.

Finding Happiness – Torn Paper Collage

Unlike most of my collages, this is about place. It has no people in it. Not even a hint of one.

It’s because place was on my mind when I woke up this morning.

Places where I fit in. That’s New England. Mostly Boston and coastal Maine, NH, and Massachusetts. And almost any arts community.

Places where I can tweak how I talk and act, so I’m a comfortable fit with a slightly different culture. That’s L.A., where my complete disinterest in being in IMDb makes me a bit of an anomaly, but – with my background and skills – I’m useful. Maybe even fun. And definitely not competition.

Places where I don’t fit it. Oh my. That’s a long list, with Illinois, Florida, and a lot of Texas near the top of it. Utah was awkward but okay, up to a point. Interior Maine, ditto.

Yes, I’ve moved a lot. Lived in lots of states. Traveled a lot, too, and I keep returning to specific places like Portsmouth (NH) and Stratford-upon-Avon (England).

This morning, defining that, clearly… it was a breakthrough. I can quit trying to “fit in,” here. I don’t speak my neighbors’ languages. (And since Disney’s layoffs, that’s literally true.)

Expecting to find a sense of place – a sense of “home” – here…? Connecting with a network of like-minded people…?

It’s not impossible, but it’s like paddling a boat against the current.

And now I have a to-do list to shift gears, a little radically, to get back to shore. Pun intended: New England shore.

So, with that on my mind, today’s collage was going to be different. It’s about symbols that represent home-and-comfort.

Size: 8.5″ x 11″

Materials: Torn magazine pages, and Yes Paste, on acid-free art paper.

Almost all the images are from Yankee magazine. The exception is the vertical strip along the left side, with evergreens reflected in water. That’s one of my own photos from Lake Winnisquam (NH).

And yes, some of the tears are untidy. Life is like that, and I wanted that to be part of this piece. Especially what follows the word “Happiness,” that’s just a hint of something else.

Door Gallery – Sharing Art

For the past few years, I’ve regularly featured art on the front door of our home.

I’m not sure how many people actually see it, but it’s my way of adding original art to a world that sometimes lacks originality.

I believe that art has an authenticity that can only be appreciated when it is viewed up close and in real life.

Here’s one of the collages I displayed on my front door. You can read about it at Now is the Time…Artist’s Notes.

Sometimes, I change the art daily. Sometimes weekly. Now and then, I may leave a statement piece – art with a strong message – on my door for a few weeks. It varies with my mood, as well as my schedule.

Here’s some other original art – with messages hoping to encourage neighbors in challenging situations – that I’ve displayed on our front door:

Of course, what I display also varies with my mood and the creative project I’m working on.

Not long after, I saw an article about another artist with an even better idea, her Little Free Art Gallery.

That’s not entirely practical where we live, but I love the concept. I may create my own version at our next home… wherever that is.

But mostly, I’m always looking for ways to share original art – in real life – with lots of people in unexpected settings.

Better Starts Now – Torn-Paper Collage

Most of my collages flow almost effortlessly as I create them. This one challenged me at several points.

Sometimes when I work, I lay out all of the pieces before I start gluing them in place.

At other times, I glue pieces as I tear them to size.

Most of the time, it’s a little of both. That is, I look at part of the collage and know that I love it, so I start gluing those pieces in place. I’m trusting the rest of the pieces to fit in place – and look good – as I find and tear them.

This collage was one of the latter, and – at a certain point – I wasn’t certain I could complete the piece. (Now and then, one just doesn’t work. I put it aside in case it “sings” to me at a future time. <– When a piece works, I’ll often talk about it “lighting up” or “singing” to me. I don’t actually hear anything; it’s just a feeling that the piece works.)

In this case, I liked the text lines at the top of the page, and the blue background beneath them. I liked the power in the model’s face, and I knew I wanted the brocade gown* in the lower right. So, I glued all of them – except the face – in place.

For the next hour, I shuffled a variety of “maybe” collage elements, until I glommed onto the magazine ad with the forest-y images. That’s when I said aloud, “Right. Mother Nature.”

With those pieces glued in place, I knew “Be open to change” had to be part of the message.

And then… I stalled again.

When the pearl necklace got my attention, I was back on track. For me, that image is about women’s power. Pearls have always seemed an iconic sign of quality and quiet strength. (I still have the pearl necklace my mother gave me when I was around 12.)

Then, the words “Better starts” leaped off the magazine page, and… I stalled again.

When I found the word “NOW” in an article headline, I knew it was exactly right.

But… I’ll admit I completed the collage with some uncertainty. It had been through so many changes, I wasn’t entirely certain what the work meant, if anything.

This morning, looking at it fresh, I’m very pleased with it. It’s exactly what I wanted to say. I just didn’t realize it until the piece was completed, and I had some mental distance from it.

Size: 8.5″ x 11″

Materials: Torn magazine pages, Yes Paste, and acid-free art paper.

*The brocade gown element remained from my work on a recent piece, Now Is The Time. In that collage, the related brocade element is at the lower right side.