While I'm deciding what to do with this blog, maybe I'll just ponder the meaning of life for a while. Kimberly's comment (thanks, Kimberly!) about the development of humor in my work made me realize that my art has come together bit by bit over time in ways that I never could have predicted. Much like my life.
Who I am now: A bigger canvas than I realized with different colors than I expected. A composition of innumerable bits torn from others' lives and imaginations--some new, some vintage. One image overlaying another to form a new whole. And at 56, I'm getting quite a bit of patina.
I'm not clear about how I began to make collages, when or how they became portraits or vignettes, at what point antique quotes got into the mix, or why the combination of elements evolved to express humor and pain. I don't know why I can't quit making them, except that I'm not done yet. I don't know what I'll be making a year from now. Again, all much like my life.
When I was a girl, I thought people Grandma's age had done all their living, had all their adventures, made all they were going to make. Now that I am Grandma's age, I know she was just beginning to understand what her life was about; and far from being ready to apply the final touches, she probably was finally giving herself over to the groove.
My artist's vision is the same as my life's vision: Put some stuff together and see what happens. It's time to play.