The Anatomy of a Collage

One of my grand obsessions is making collages. I can't remember why or how I started doing it, but Gerardo says it's because I have itchy fingers that always need to be fiddling with things.

When I was 8 or 9, I cut the picture of Paul McCartney out of my mom's "Help" album (sorry again, mom.) and told everyone on the bus that he was my boyfriend. That was the first time I cut a picture out of a published work and weaved it into a tall tale.

My first collages weren't narrative. They had names like "Red Hand" and "Fishing" and "Shoe."

But then suddenly, a couple of years ago, they turned narrative:

The Salesman

Critters

Over & Done With

Tourists

Putting Out Fires

I usually have between five and ten collages going at once, all in various stages of completion. Sometimes I get obsessed with one in particular and pick at it and fiddle with it until it either falls apart at the seams or suddenly blossoms into being. Other times, I know exactly the moment I see it that an image will be right for a particular collage, whether it's something specific I've been looking for or some random interloper that suddenly and perfectly changes the story. 

I'm sure there's a scientific explanation for the changes that occur in my thought process when I make them, but I'm not versed in brain science. In layman's terms, my busy, chatty brain lies down to rest its eyes for a spell, and ephemeral little floaty tendrils snake forth, fanning out across seas of images, responding to color, texture and mood, feeling out stories and scenarios, gently examining deep-seated fears and biases, and organizing it all into little stories or voyeuristic glimpses without conscious effort. It's very meditative: My internal dialogue becomes murky, indelible and visceral. I can't put quotes around it, as much as I'd love to read that novel. 

Last week, I decided to document the making of a few collages to see how the stories evolve and change with each addition. I don't typically pay attention to these things as I'm working on a collage, and don't usually think about it in retrospect, but I'm often asked how I come up with the ideas for them. My go-to answer, "they sort of create themselves," sounds vague and a little pretentious to me. So I thought I'd find out for reals.

I have a large collection of books I draw from when I make a collage. Sometimes I start by thumbing through them to see what images catch my imagination. Today, I find a boy and girl with their backs to me, looking out in the distance. I've seen them a million times, but today they speak to me, so I cut 'em out. I find a landscape to put them against that gives the impression of distance. They boy and girl are watching something. What are they looking at? My first thought is dancing tigers, but I'm not really in the mood for animals today.

I thumb through more books, and there's an interesting sky. Some kind of energy is emanating earthward. Is it good energy or bad energy? Something is definitely afoot, but I don't know what it is yet. 

I thumb through some more books, and there's a picture of some kind of space explosion. I cut out a little piece of the smoke. Something's on fire over that hill!

What caused the fire? What's causing the shower of light? I'm pretty sure it's aliens on both counts, so I thumb through more books and find a painting of some creepy-looking Renaissance women who will make perfect aliens. I cut out a couple of them and remove their head coverings. In a science book, I find an  instrument that will make a perfect alien spacecraft. I also find a missile. It looks like the government is shooting first and asking questions later. 

I add another alien to the craft. Something should be coming out of the spacecraft that's somehow interacting with the landscape. I go the the classic source of expressive arms and hands, the Illustrated Children's Bible, and cut off some bloke's arm. I also find a robed gentleman (Moses?) who is shaking a stick at the pesky aliens.  

Yeah, the robed guy isn't working for me, so I take him out. I find some other scientific tools and embellish the spacecraft. I come across some fire and turn the smoldering thing over the hill into a full-blown explosion. I begin to consider that the aliens could be here to help. Maybe they're going to put out the fire, or maybe they're just gathering samples to take home. But who knows? Evil isn't always ugly, and mercy doesn't always look benevolent. Either way, in about three seconds they're going to get it. 

Friend? Or Foe?

This next collage started out all about colors and textures. The sun and clouds came first, followed by the cityscape and the giraffe head. The giraffe, poor guy, was going to be waiting for his man, once I found the appropriate shady carnivore.

As I searched for the right characters, I found the water. 

Then I stumbled across Abe, holding out his hand as if to receive a little payment on the down-low. I think our most beloved president is about to make a deal of some kind. I set the giraffe aside and focus on looking for Abe's partner in crime.

                               

And here he is! This guy is perfect. He's handing off the money, and it looks like Mr. Lincoln has found a home for his inexplicable pile of snakes. 

Little Snake Problem

I like putting landscapes together from scratch, but sometimes I find a ready-made scene that's just begging for something to happen, like this one:

This chick just turned the scene into a B horror movie. She's being pulled into the rocks against her will, but what's got her? Some kind of sea creature, most likely.

Oops. Looks like we aren't on earth anymore. What kind of alien creature is ruining her day?

Giant land squid, of course. And there's another one floating toward her, about to make things twice as bad.

Oh, look! There's her scientist boyfriend, dedicated and oblivious on the other side of the cave, taking measurements. He's about to wish he'd listened to the Commander and brought along a ray gun. 

Natives

You can see more of my collages on my Tumblr page, which I occasionally update, or you can like my collage page on Facebook.