There once was a biker named Charlie
Who loved to ride on his Harley
As he zoomed down the road
He suddenly slowed
_______________________
Finish My Limerick — C
Tag: collage
Finish My Limerick — B
There once was a boy named Bruce
Who had a serious craving for juice
Orange, apple or pear
He did not really care
_____________________
Palm Sunday
if the people are complacent,
the palms themselves
will cast their branches
across the road
to form a royal carpet
for the King
Finish My Limerick — A
There once was a woman named Annie
Whose sense of smell was uncanny
One day she was frantic –
What she smelled was GIGANTIC
(__here’s where you write your line____)
Blather
For those just stopping in, allow me to explain. For 2023, I’ve tried to post 23 words – exactly 23 words – every day. However, Saturdays have become blather-days when I write an unlimited amount of words. It’s like being on a diet and giving yourself one free day each week.
Also on Saturdays, I try to use the Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness prompt, which this week is “‘antic.’ Use it as a word or find a word that contains it.“
AND, for April, I’m doing the A-to-Z Challenge. I plan to write the first four lines of a limerick every day and leave the last one for the readers to finish.
Lastly, I hope to post a collage that may or may not go with the limerick. You decide.
Whew! That feels like a lot to fit into one post! Blather, antic, limerick (today’s letter: A), and a collage.
I read a post yesterday from someone else participating in the A-to-Z Challenge. She had nearly finished all her posts for the month! So impressive. So not me. I’ve written seven limericks, but even the one for today I had to edit to fit in -antic words.
I’ve also done a few collages ahead of time. That Matisse quote from the other day is one I need to frame. I ordered this collage magazine called Kolaj and leafed through it. My collages in no way look like the collages in the magazine.
I feel like many of the collage artists are trying to make a statement. Their art is edgy. I often refer to mine as kitschy, but maybe whimsical is a better word.
Is kitsch art? I suppose. It’s just not considered good art — which in my head I translate into “real” art.
Other poets considered poetry by Robert W. Service (author of The Cremation of Sam McGee and a gazillion other entertaining story-poems) to be doggerel. (Doggerel definition from Merriam Webster: loosely styled and irregular in measure especially for burlesque or comic effect. also : marked by triviality or inferiority). Doggerel is the poetry equivalent of kitsch.
I happen to love story poems AND Robert W. Service poems. I’ve written poetry like that.
So my poetry is doggerel and my art is kitsch.
Meh. If I like it, does it really matter?
Now help me out — go finish my limerick for me!
Collaging
The fun of making a collage is that the picture tells me its story.
I’m waiting for her to tell what she’s thinking.
An unStable
Nothing is glued down. I keep rearranging collage pieces to go with the prompt: Stable.
I’d say that this is an unstable stable.
Women’s Day
A woman wished me “Happy Women’s Day” today.
Here’s my collage take(s) on Winslow Homer’s painting of a strong woman: Inside the Bar.
Window
“Draw or paint a window, including the emotions it makes you feel.” from Henri Matisse and the Colors of Lent
#Lentendevotional
#NotthepictureIstartedouttomake
#Doesitevokeemotion?
The Obliviousness of Tigger
The other day I was trying to explain to someone my artistic process. It was an odd conversation from the get-go because I don’t consider myself an artist and I don’t know what my process is.
“The collages happen,” I said. “I start cutting out pictures not really knowing what the final piece will be. Somewhere along the line, it takes a turn and I’m looking for specifics. For backgrounds or animals or people. It’s like shopping for a gift for someone you love; I know it when I see it.”
Today the Stream of Consciousness writing prompt is “wild animal.” I knew immediately what wild animal I wanted to do — a tiger. I had been to the zoo a few weeks ago with my granddaughter. The tiger there fascinated me.
It was so beautiful and huge and sad, pacing back and forth along the fence at the far side of its enclosure. Padding, padding, padding, down and back, its huge paws silent and powerful.
I read the explanation at the zoo about how tigers are losing their natural habitats to human expansion. According to the World Wildlife Fund, they have lost 95% of their historical range. They are also poached and their body parts traded.
We “save” them by putting them in zoos.
So tigers — for a collage. I cut out half a dozen of them last night, then sat down this morning to create my collage.
My favorite tiger didn’t make the cut.
I mean — he made the cut from the book, a beat-up scribbled in copy of Where is Christopher? by Anne Lawrence. He didn’t make the cut for the collage. Tigger, however, did.
Oblivious Tigger. Goofy smile. Happy-go-lucky. Oh, the wonderful thing about Tiggers, right?
I think his obliviousness is less about the danger from the tiger and more about the greater plight of the tiger, don’t you think?
It would be so easy to extrapolate this to humans. We are oblivious to the plights of our fellow human beings.
It would be so easy to jump on a soapbox about this, but I will be the first to admit my own obliviousness and my ignorance.
It feels like too much for me to take on.
I will pad back and forth in my enclosure.
And pray.
Lord, help me to see.
A Sunflower from Maggie
In 2022, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston decommissioned this piece by Georgia O’Keeffe and sold it at auction to benefit acquisitions for the museum. However, it fell short of the $6-8 million estimate of what it would bring in, selling for a mere $4.8 million.
I heard on the news the other day that Manchester United, the soccer team, was for sale. The price was in the billions. $4.5 billion? $5 billion? $8 billion? I can’t fathom numbers that high.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the price of eggs.
Mimic the master attempt #2 — I tried to make a collage version of “A Sunflower from Maggie.”
This will not win a prize. Every time I try to collage I learn something from my frustrations.
- Glue stick is sticky, messy, and dries too quickly.
- Mod-Podge is sticky, messy, and makes the paper buckle and curl.
- Art requires infinite patience — and I’m sadly lacking.
- Art requires time — and I’m sadly lacking that too. I’m surrounded by far more important things I should be doing, but I’m stuck. So I cut up books. Sheesh.
- Prestigious artists earn their prestige. I doubt anyone just wakes up one morning and starts creating masterful art. It takes practice, time, patience, and maybe some Mod-Podge and glue sticks.
When I look at other collage-art, it’s very different from mine which makes me think I’m not doing it right.
But it’s mine.
And I like it.
Sometimes.
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 