The second collage I ever made was selected for a juried exhibit in a gallery. It won Honorable Mention and People’s Choice. And it sold. To a friend.

This is all fantastic and also not. It set me up with high expectations for myself as a collage artist. And I was essentially told by a “real” artist that it was beginner’s luck. So.

Let me pull out the world’s tiniest violin for you to accompany me while I say that I have tried lots of different things, and those things tend to come fairly easily for me. I need that tiny violin because this tendency causes me to pressure myself to be great out of the gate. With everything. It causes me to sometimes not even try. It takes me into a future of what-ifs. It makes “practice” seem both monumental and boring.

Meanwhile, idea after idea evaporates. Or perhaps other artists snatch those ideas from the ether. Isn’t that how ideas work?

After November 8, 2016, I needed healing. I felt gut-punched. I know I was not alone in this feeling. (I also have a friend who doesn’t understand why anyone would have felt gut-punched. I’m working really hard to understand her better.)

So—I consciously turned off the TV and pulled out my collage supplies. “Keep Calm and Cary On” resulted. 

If you don’t know who Cary Grant is, that’s fine. He’s my boyfriend anyway. Yes, he’s dead, and no, we never met. What’s your point?

Cary is a classic Hollywood actor and quite possibly the most gorgeous human to walk the planet. FIGHT ME. (Okay, don’t. I hate those “Sexiest Man Alive” contests. Really, People Magazine?? You’ve checked out EVERY SINGLE MAN ON THE PLANET ALIVE TODAY and determined that Idris Elba is the winner? Well, okay, I grant you that one. Because IDRIS ELBA! *swoon*)

But Cary Grant. Everyone either wanted to be him or get in bed with him. And although I try not to be a sheep in my pop culture tastes . . . CARY GRANT! *swoon*

Focusing on Cary’s profile rather than current events was the balm I needed. It gave me focus and purpose. I was working toward a deadline to submit this piece into the juried exhibit—the first time I had ever done such a thing. I was truly happy just to have the piece included in the show. Selling it to an actor friend was delicious icing. 

And I haven’t done a collage since. Well, I did a small piece as a gift. And a small mosaic for myself to try to get the ball rolling again. But that was two years ago. 

To be fair, I’ve done a lot of theatre since then, and I do have a full time job. But collage continues to nag at me. 

So as I stand at the precipice of my challenge to self, I’m excited. And a little scared to jump. Thankfully, standing nearby is my Inner Cheerleader. Jules. (She’s a jewel.)

INNER CHEERLEADER JULES: Shad, Keep Calm and Cary On. Just take a dive into this practice. Don’t worry about selling anything. Don’t worry if you don’t love some of your own work, or if others don’t love it. Just focus on the process. Open your mind, open your heart, open a New Yorker, and start ripping. 

SELF: But the glue! It’s such a commitment!

JULES: Hush. Open up. Dive in. Don’t make me push you.

SELF: Fine. Whose idea was this, anyway?

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