Week 4: A Perfect Time and Place?
“there may never be a perfect time and place”
Collage, cut New Yorker Magazine paper, 9" x 12"
One whole lunar month has passed since I began this challenge. Twelve more to go.
It’s starting to feel like a regular practice, but the ruts are not too deep yet. I feel like I can still adapt my practice if I need to. Right now while I’m working from home and we’re all still socially distancing, the project seems doable. If things change over the course of the year, I hope I can still manage. But I am mentally preparing myself for the possibility of having to change course midstream, depending on what life throws at me.
Meanwhile, I’m starting to see some patterns in my process. As I sit down to read a new issue, I say a little prayer. I open myself up to inspiration, and I claim that I will remain open throughout the week, even when I’m not actively working on the project. I look for signs and inspiration, but I’m not anxiously hunting them down. You know how “they” say you can get your best ideas in the shower? I want to create shower-brain.
With four collages under my belt (or more accurately, my elastic lounge-pant-waistband. Who’s wearing a belt these days???), I am noticing the various ways that inspiration strikes. Sometimes a visual or color from the magazine becomes my launching pad. Sometimes it comes from an article. This week it came from a phrase that struck my fancy.
As I read through each issue, I make notes about any words and phrases I might want to use in the collage. Once I’m done reading, I cut out those words and phrases first. I end up using only a fraction of what I cut out. I’m saving the leftovers for I-don’t-know-what-yet.
Detail — “there may never be a perfect time and place”
“Heat Wave” by Kadir Nelson
September 2, 2019
This week’s issue is from September 2, 2019, selected because I was drawn to the cover art by Kadir Nelson (@kadirnelson).
The vision for this collage didn’t come until after I had separated out all the colors. But I already knew what the title of the piece would be: “there may never be a perfect time and place.” And this is the phrase I’ve been meditating on this week.
It can be easy to angst over decisions. The Universe provides so many options, how do I know which is the right one for me? Is this my path? Should I take it now? What about…? What if, what if…???
Now that I’ve got a few years under my elastic waistband, I don’t fret so much about choices. And this collage challenge is a great way for me to put that into practice. Just make a choice. Any path can work. I don’t need to wait for the giant billboard in the sky to point me in the “right” direction (although I still keep hoping it will appear.) I lean toward the path of least resistance. And then I step through the open doors.
I make a decision about color and go with it. What if I don’t like it? Well, glue something over it. Or just get over it. And move on.
A “perfect time and place”? Well, if we’re going to get all metaphysical, time and space are an illusion anyway. The only time is now, since the past and future only exist in our heads. The great spiritual challenge—staying present in the now. Maybe that’s what shower-brain is?
Space might be an illusion, but my condo seems pretty real right now. It has a roof and running water, and I love it, and I’m grateful for it. But it’s tiny. I have spent YEARS not making art, wishing I had a proper studio space. Self-sabotage much, Shad? (Simma down, Ursula.)
Finally, when my Sweet Hubs said, just bring your work into the living room, I couldn’t think of a good excuse not to make art anymore. And so I pull out my project each night, spread it out on the floor, then pack it away when I’m done. It’s not perfect, but it’s workable.
The alternative is more of the same. And I’m seeking transformation, inside and out. It seems that outside, a whole lot of people across the globe think that now is a perfect time for change within the systems that tip the scales for the people in power. I am hopeful. Hopeful that Love, Compassion, Empathy, Right Action, Unity, and Peace become the here-and-now collective reality/illusion.
Here right now is my latest collage. Since I was thinking about time, the round corners started out to be clock faces. But when I decided to use the image of the spider web in the upper left corner, I wanted to reflect that in the lower right, still with the essence of a clock face.
That black-and-white spider web image, by the way, is a piece of art by Vija Celmins. She covered her surface with graphite and erased all the lines of the spider web. She’s known for her extremely detailed drawings of ocean surfaces and night skies. She’s been working for about 60 years, and she has sold several pieces for millions of dollars each. Rock on, Vija.
Rock on, YOU. Thanks for being here with me now. I love you!
This week’s featured cartoon.
