Collage Series 2: Three Graces

Collage 2.8- Three Graces, copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

Do these ladies look familiar? Sandra, Tina, and Nancy from Three Fates, another picture taken on the same day. These three, in many ways, were the center of my life. My grandmother Sandra was the head of the family. Aunt Tina had no children yet but loved to "borrow" my brother and me for outings and weekends. She was like a second mother to us. And of course, my mother Nancy. She enjoyed having us around but wasn't always sure what to do when things went south.

One day we were driving somewhere on the Long Island Expressway. Me and my brother were bickering (big surprise) and she had asked us to knock it off several times. Exasperated and about to blow her top, she pulled over on the side of the highway and told us to get out. We did, and she pulled away. We just stood there, unsure of what to do. We were both in grade school at the time. A few minutes later she came back and pulled over in front of us, just sitting there with the motor running. We promised to be good and got back in. It was never spoken of, at least not for a loooong time.

All of us have had these moments as parents. Nobody can drive you nuts-er than your own progeny. Were we scared? You bet. Did we simmer down once we got back in the car? Indeed. You have never seen two quieter children in your life.

Lately, I have become fond of using negative space in collages. Sometimes the cut-away "background" is at least as interesting as the figure I cut out. And what a fun way to talk about people's "internal" space, thoughts, feelings, moods. With these three women, everyone is smiling, but there's a lot going on inside them and between them. Lots of history, lots of emotion, lots of backstory.

Collage Series 2: Three Fates

Collage 2.7- Three Fates, copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

Rummaging through the family pictures again. I found some pictures of (L to R) my aunt Tina, grandmother Sandra, and my mother Nancy. Not sure of the year, but I think it must be the mid to late 1960s. They were the universe from which I emerged, running through the woods in my red coat and hat.

I really did get to grow up running through the woods in Bald Hill Ski Bowl, something for which I am eternally grateful. We played in hollow trees, sledded down the service roads, rode bikes on the paths, took the shortcut under the fence that the neighborhood dogs had dug. In the winter, they flooded a basketball court for ice skating, renting out skates and selling hot chocolate. Sometimes I came across treasures in the woods. I once found a tiny bible, about 1.5" tall, and the pages pivoted out of the metal cover. I don't know what happened to that, but I do have the silver ring with a man's face on it that I found when I was about 7.

According to Wikipedia, the Three Fates "were the white-robed incarnations of destiny...Clotho ("spinner"), Lachesis ("allotter") and Atropos ("the unturnable", a metaphor for death). They controlled the mother thread of life of every mortal from birth to death. They were independent, at the helm of necessity, directed fate, and watched that the fate assigned to every being by eternal laws might take its course without obstruction. Both gods and men had to submit to them..."* Sounds about right, sounds like the women in my family. 

I like how their bodies sort of rise up and grow out of the picture of the nebula in the middle. Also, I enjoy how the trees at the top look like birds wings or feathered cloaks wrapped around the sisters, enclosing them, and protecting my world.

The nebula pic and the starry background came from Scientific American, and the trees came from Spark, put out by the most awesome Anythink Libraries.

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moirai

Collage Series 2: Caution Cuidado

Collage 2.6: Caution Cuidado, copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

For about a week, the maintenance crew kept adding more caution tape every day, wrapping each piece of play equipment several times. I guess people didn't think they meant it? One day the basketball hoop was normal, then the net was gone but the hoop was there. Next, there was caution tape strung from the hoop in big sweeping swags (gorgeous blowing in the wind, but that day I had forgotten my phone so no pictures). Then the hoop disappeared entirely, and they cordoned off the whole area using equipment, posts, and benches to anchor the tape.

This playground has, for me, become a symbol of life during the pandemic. Devoid of children, cordoned off, declared a danger zone. But the bright yellow always cheers me, reminds me that there is a good reason, that this will be over (hopefully) soon, and children will run and climb and shout here once again.

The daffodils were still in bloom, but the dandelions had begun to join them. Except for the daffs, all of these pics are from the park in the center of our community.

Collage Series 2: Spring 2020

Collage 2.5: Spring 2020, copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

On my daily walks during this time of social distancing, I began to take pictures to use in collage. Flowers, trees, the textures of a rock, the shadow of a tree. Sometime during the second week the daffodils started to bloom bright yellow, and so did the playground. Daffodil yellow caution tape encircled each play piece. It was a startling sight. I had wondered when, and if, and how that was going to happen. A swarm of children on playground equipment could spread covid 19 from one house to dozens of them in no time. Sad to see the playground out of bounds, but happy everyone else now had a better chance of making it through. A strange spring, 2020.

The playground is in the park at the center of our community, and the daffodils are from my yard. They live under the apple tree, enjoying the warm spring sun.

What surprises have you discovered lately?

Collage Series 2: Earthly Remains

Collage 2.4: Earthly Remains, copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

My dad again, as a child, and myself as a child. He seems such a mystery to me, yet in some ways I knew him intimately. I knew him when I was a child, but once I was a self-sufficient adult he was long gone. I often wonder how my life might have been different if he was around more when I was a teenager and young adult. I wish he could have met my kids, and I wish my kids could have seen the mischievous glint in his eye, experienced his warmth and wit.

Not that he didn't have his issues. He and my mom had some fights that were worthy of the silver screen. The family he grew up in basically disintegrated at some point, leaving him and a couple of his sisters to be raised by the nuns in an orphanage (long story). The bitterness he felt towards his own father never lessened, never left him.

 But I knew he loved me, appreciated me for who I was. I feel like he and I shared the same basic temperament, quiet mostly, drawn towards physical labor and tasks involved in making things. Drawing. Writing. Taking pictures. Building things. Bad puns and sarcasm.

Mom- What do you want for breakfast?

Me- Make me oatmeal!

Dad- Poof! You're oatmeal!

Collage Series 2: Inner Light

After I cut out all those pictures for Playing Ball, I realized the backgrounds were every bit as interesting as the figures I removed. What to do, what to do...

Collage 2.3: Inner Light, copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

Using the negative space is a fun way to talk about internal vs. external reality. I look at that little girl and see all this sweetness and joy, and just a bit of mischief. When you take away the physical form, what lies beneath?

Collage Series 2: Playing Ball

I enjoyed the whole family pictures idea, so I decided to play with trio of photos my father took of me when I was a small child. He had a double lens reflex camera, the kind you look down into to take a picture. I like how these three pics tell a little story and I have them framed together in my home. I decided to use some of the cloud pictures I have been taking for the last 7 years. When I got my first cell phone, I fell in love with the sky and took hundreds of pictures, something I still do (but not as often). I printed out some skies, and I printed out some me-s in different sizes, and I got to work.

First, I tiled some sky pictures to cover the background. Printer paper in 8.5x11, and the bristol is 9x12, so I moved everything around until I liked it, then taped it down and trimmed the edges. Cutting out the me-s was fun, cut out a bunch more than I used so I am sure they will pop up again sometime. Plus, so cute! Moving them around on the page felt kind of like playing paper dolls. I glued those down and got out the colored pencils.

Playing Ball in progress

At first, I thought I would just color the balls, then I drew one in the corner so she (I) would have something to chase. I posted it to the group, but it didn't feel quite done. A week later I got the pencils out again and kept going.

Collage 2.2: Playing Ball, copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

I wanted to blend the cloud images together so it looked more cohesive. Also thought the idea of more balls scattered in the clouds sounded fun, so I went for it. I did a little and set it aside, off and on for a few days. Deepened the blues of the sky. Darkened the colors on the balls. Made some shadows. Drew a cloud under the me that was floating in space. I don't think my white colored pencil has ever gotten such a workout! Touched up a few spots with sharpies. I was afraid I would go too far, but I think I stopped at the right time.

It's funny using pictures of myself, especially ones where I was young enough I don't remember anything. It's like looking into another world (and it is, really), or looking at a storybook. Once upon a time, I wore a white jumpsuit and a bonnet, and all I needed was to be out in the sunshine with a ball to play with and I was in heaven.

Collage Series 2: Love, Gerry

After the first 5 collages, I had run through my stash of canvas board and decided to try a larger format. Found a 9x12 pad of bristol hiding in the paper stack. Always glad to use what I already have! Saves a trip to the store, saves money, and makes more space (in theory) at home. So, 9x12 for Series 2. I also felt more focused, having tried a few things out in Series 1. I had a better idea of what I wanted to do and how I might go about it.

Collage 2.1: Love, Gerry. copyright 2020 Linda Farrelly

I have been thinking about my father a lot lately. My parents divorced when I was 11 and we moved away, from Long Island to south Florida. It was a few years until I saw him again. By then I was a teenager, and he had been through some stuff, so it was difficult to get close again. The last time I saw him I was 16, and the last time I heard from him I was 18. Feels like a million years ago.

What I remember about him: He had a wicked sense of humor, loved jazz, took lots of pictures that he developed and printed in the basement, and sometimes wrote poetry. He liked to work in the yard, and he could eat like nobody's business. Always stayed slim and strong.
I decided to print out some pictures on plain paper and see what happened. Most of the pics are black and white, but I printed them in color because I like the effect that gives, more detail but also kind of watercolor-like in look. I knew I wanted the letter he wrote to his sister (that was actually scanned in color) for at least part of the background. I printed out a bunch of pics of Dad, not knowing really what I would want to use.

The picture of Gerry with the cigar is a favorite of mine, and it is from the same time period as the letter. I wanted to use a picture of him as a child also, so I auditioned a few until one seemed to fit. Young Gerry is in white with one of his sisters. Using backgrounds from these pics and others, I worked out the composition and started taping things down. The colored pencil was used to highlight certain things, blend other things in, unify the piece. The coloring part was a lot of fun to do. This is the first one that felt personal.