Author: Eibhlin

What now…? I doubt that I’m the only one asking this question as we head into the uncharted territories of 2021.

But, because we’re forging a fresh, new path, perhaps we get to make the rules. We can invent our new world, and make it better than before.

 

The flaws of the past are coming to light. Those rules may have served our ancestors well. They may have worked for many of us, as recently as 1995 or even 2005.

But, in recent years, they’ve become a game to beat.  We can’t rely on civility or even common sense in all settings.

We can’t trust that laws enacted in the 1960s and 70s will be respected. Worse, their intent may have been clear to us in the hippie movement but not to others. Or perhaps others just shrugged them off. Maybe we thought we’d put things in motion and could trust them to run on auto-pilot.

Clearly, we couldn’t. And, in some cases, our decisions were made in the shadows of our parents’ and grandparents’ choices. We could see ahead to “better,” but perhaps no farther.

So, this collage has a somewhat staid background, referencing the past.

“Now is the time… to INVENT” is over a window with drawn – but sheer – curtains.

The finger points to an outspoken woman, but it might also point to the figure in a somewhat Victorian gown, with hands on hips. Is she encouraging us or stunned at how forthright we are now?

The lower part of the collage, with “THE RULES” in the text, is deliberately fractured. It represents the random pieces of the past that we’re choosing to build upon. And there’s a certain watery, fluid quality because boundaries are changing. Certainties may not be so certain, after all.

That can feel destabilizing, but it also presents us with freedom.

I like to think we’ll make better decisions now.

Size: 8.5″ x 11″

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

 

 

This is among my favorite sets of daily collage pages in my “Looking for a Fairy Tale” art journal.

For now, this photo isn’t great, but it’s a way to show my progress as an artist. (I plan to use a flatbed scanner and turn this journal into a book.)

My current* husband suggested that – perhaps – these pages should look buckled and shadowed. It’s part of the authenticity of the work.

Then again, he’s an artist. For him, the initial impression is as important as the technical details. I love how well he understands the process-v-product aspects of our respective art projects.

The actual pages are heavily collaged and glittered. I created them in a moment (one of many) of frustration and anger. I was at least as angry myself as at my (in 2002)  soon-to-be-ex.

Oh, his decision to divorce me was correct, even though – for years – I protested it. (It was one of those “for the sake of the children” things that some of us default to. In retrospect, I should have started packing as soon as he announced that he wanted a divorce. It might have been better for all of us.)

Anyway…

These journal pages were about speaking up. Being myself. Not explaining who I was, what I was doing, or why. Just being.

Whether anyone else appreciated what I was doing… that wasn’t as important as creating. 

Doing the things that I do well. Things unique to me.

Whether anyone else liked or admired my work – or even me – was never a priority. Maybe it should have been. (My then-husband’s regular refrain, no matter what I did, always concluded with “but what you really ought to do is…,” followed by something that – to me – seemed incongruous.)

So there it is.

Looking at it now, the art in this journal seems raw and a little frantic.

An emotional explosion in progress.

But it’s also clear that I’m an artist—a creator.

Scanning this journal is a profoundly emotional process for me. Looking at these pages, it’s impossible not to see what was going on when I created them.

And how I got there, a little at a time. A marriage firmly urged by our church, and 20 years later, a divorce that I resisted foolishly.

I’m glad I documented my feelings. Art should always be about passion, sometimes raw, but always honest.

And now, I’m inspired by an actual happily-ever-after marriage of 20+ years. My current husband was there – as a friend – when I needed him, and he still is, every moment of every day.  We’re deeply in love, and he makes our home a haven. It’s why I’ve finally been able to leave the past behind and get back to making art.

These are two pages in a 5″ x 8.5″ spiral-bound art notebook. Materials: Torn pages from magazines, colored tissue paper, glitter, and Golden Gel Medium as an adhesive.

---

* It seems utterly absurd that I’ve had multiple husbands. I have no way to explain – even to myself – the many extraordinary things I’ve done (and continue to do), in a life that I otherwise think of as quite tame and average.

But, yes, some things in my life were (and still are) unexpected.  Now…? I wouldn’t have it any other way. (But I’ll confess that I sometimes wonder “what if…?” about clinging to that previous marriage, when I should have left. When he divorced me, I didn’t even hire an attorney. I was that deeply in denial on many levels.)

Working on a book based on my 2002 “Looking for a Fairy Tale” art journal, I was struck by an image I’d used on May 4th, 2002 and a similar one in yesterday’s collage.

It’s the tiger’s eyes.

At the top of this page, you’ll see the 2002 collage – admittedly a scan that needs improvement. (The original journal is buckled and warped after being carried to – and passed around at – arts events where I taught, throughout the U.S. and Canada. So, I may have to photograph some of the pages instead of scanning them.)

The 2002 Journal – “Looking for a Fairy Tale”

I created the 2002 journal when I was going through a difficult divorce. From the start, the marriage had challenges. For me, it was rebound, but I wanted to believe I could make it work, anyway.

For him…? I’m still not sure.

But, by 2002, he said he wanted a divorce. After over 15 years, he saw no point in trying to reconcile.

I insisted on staying until our youngest was ready to leave for college. With some persuasion by our marriage counsellor, my husband reluctantly agreed.

The interim period was difficult, to put it mildly. To get through it, I journaled daily. Each was a torn-paper collage.

Day by day, I poured my heartache onto the pages, in words and images, mostly from magazines.

During that year+, my soon-to-be-ex- met a local woman he later married. As far as I know, it was a true love match and they’re still together, smiling. I’m glad that worked out.

I also met someone, online, but he was thousands of miles away and much younger than me. So, it took me a very long time to understand he was interested in me, romantically.

Frankly, I wasn’t confident we were a good match. That uncertainty, and related ups & downs in our long-distance conversations, were reflected in my 2002 journal.

A few months before the divorce, my online friend and I met in real life. Now, nearly 20 years later, he and I are still together, married and smiling, and laughing every day. I can’t imagine what this journey would have been like, without his continued support.

The Newest Collage (2021)

This collage – assembled yesterday (1 Feb 2021) – has some resonance with the 2002, if only in the tiger’s eyes.

You can read about it at my previous article, Dance to a Different Beat.

The 2002 collage is approximately 5″ x 8.5″ and created with torn magazine pages, copper foil, copper marker scribbles, and Golden Gel Medium in a spiral-bound sketchbook.

The new collage (Dance to a Different Beat) is 8.5″ x 11″ and created with torn magazine pages, on acid-free art paper.

 

 

Some of my collages start with very odd inspirations. This one began with three images: First, the classical figure in the upper right. Then, the woman with the sunglasses. And finally, a photo of a wall with a large window and a translucent, folded shade. (The latter is at the left side of the collage, with a tree image over the middle of it.)

As I’m working on these collages, I see my voice – as a powerful woman – emerging. The images I choose are about a wide range of women representing a variety of backgrounds. Sweet models discovering their options. Strong women of color. Women emerging from the shadows, and finding their voices, too.

We’ve always been strong. Queen Boudica. Joan of Arc. Tashenamani (Moving Robe). Matilda of Tuscany. Agustina de Aragón. In the Bible: Deborah. And so on.

But now, having to rise to challenges of the current era, I feel as if we’re claiming our power in more forthright ways.

Stepping out of the shadows. Not accepting the raised eyebrow and “trophy wife” dismissal, or the diminutive “little woman” description.

That’s not limited to one gender. It’s a wave – perhaps a building tidal wave – gathering force, regardless of how society labels us… or how we describe ourselves, in the moment.

We’re speaking truth to power because (a) someone has to, and (b) we’re not just functional, decorative accessories. We’re demanding our voices as equals in global society.

It’s a clear theme in this collage, and one that I see throughout much of my recent work.

Size: 8.5″ x 11″

Materials: Acid-free art paper, torn magazine images, Yes Paste.

 

It’s time to try some different techniques. Not necessarily mixed media, though this one is clearly that.

Mostly, I want to go beyond the edges of my “tidy” impulses.

The question is: Will my work still retain its artistic vision and integrity? And, will these nudges into somewhat-unfamiliar realms take my art in a new, more expressive direction?

That remains to be seen. (No pun intended.)

Today’s theme was shades of blue and St. George, patron saint of England. It’s the next country we’d like to explore, as a possible place to put down roots. Frankly, we’re ready for our own home. And a garden. And so on.

The vision of that is, indeed, “brighter than ever.” And we are “all in” on this as a 2021 goal… at least for a visit. (My husband has never been to England. I have, several times, usually for extended visits. In fact, I’ve travelled all over the U.K. and find something to love in every nook, cranny, hill, and valley.)

In this collage, I like the determination in Reese Witherspoon’s eyes, at the top of the page. When I saw them, I saw what’s in my own mirror (virtual and in-real-life), too.

The other woman is wearing glasses that slightly mask the expression in her eyes. I identified with her, too, as I don’t always show people what I’m thinking. In our society, it can be the safest route for women who are – in Blues Brothers’ terms – on a mission.

Also, I left a little extra space on the lower right side of the collage. That’s room for wonderful things ahead.

Size: 8.5″ x 11″

Materials: Acid-free heavyweight paper, torn magazine images, a printed image with watercolor & colored pencil, and Yes Paste.

 

The past three mornings, I’ve woken up smiling. That’s refreshing, and this collage reflects that. (The photo is a little blurry as I photographed it in early morning, low-light conditions. I’ll replace this photo later in the day.)

Life isn’t perfect. (Is it, ever…?) But, after a good night’s sleep, and with an increasingly clear vision of the immediate future, I’m pleased.

This collage started with the phrase “Live Well,” and a glittery version of the Eiffel Tower. Then, two juxtapositioned images (people wearing pearls) – advertisements on two sides of the same magazine page – seemed perfect. A luxury home, and a series of women – each with a distinctly different personal style – added to the foundation of this piece.

We all deserve to live well. There should be no barriers. (I thought about listing the most prevalent current barriers. Then I decided, No, there should be no barriers at all. Articulating them just endows them with a bit more energy and – today, anyway – I choose not to do that.)

It’s a good day. Life is moving in a positive direction. Let’s keep looking forward.

Size: 8.5″ x 11″

Materials: Acid-free, heavyweight art paper; torn magazine images and text; and Yes Paste