The simplest things can inspire, but really, they build on a lifetime of connected ideas and support. Take my latest rabbit-hole of creativity as an example. I was given some lovely cotton linter paper from a creative friend: it is unsized and soaks up paint faster than I can blink. I just had to try it!

Then, I’d been eyeing an old book. (How old? SO old: 1675. Yes, really!) Should I use it in my collage? It was a gift from my mother-in-law, certainly NOT meant as collage fodder. But so old, so beautiful…

The tipping point was the offer of pattern tissue, shared by art group buddy Kathleen Kuchar, from a stash her mother was hanging on to. She kindly offered to share it among the group, a collaborative project in the making.

Suddenly, I had a lovely small series of 6 pieces on cotton linter. In each one, the pattern elements and dense text of the old book add weight and focus to the compositions.

Shortly thereafter, I was experimenting with watercolor techniques, in a quick class from Laura Horn, using gouache on watercolor paper. I varied brush and blending techniques, exploring what happens when I just follow ideas. As I explored possible palettes, I stayed within a stacked-thirds structure, and added some mark-making to the drying paint, scribbling away with anything on hand that would leave a line on the page.

Then, my nerd brain kicked in (yes, it took me THAT long!) — what if I combined each collage with each watercolor background? Each row below is a common background, and each column is the same collage, used in different ways.

The in-depth how-to goes like this: each composition is two layers merged using blending modes in Adobe Photoshop, varying the mode and the amount, or opacity, and also the position and size of the collage. In many cases, I added a masking layer to block some areas of the merge, and another layer to moderate the values to a histogram that I preferred. By my normal attributions, that makes these digital collages with 3-4 layers each, that’s it. But these look to me like a complicated blur — the similarities across the rows and down the columns feel like a gradient, yet each piece has unique strengths too.

As I think of the influences that lead to this progression, I’m in debt to family and friends. To my own mother, whose sense of creativity and surprise always came through in our family events, not to mention her workplace. To my mother-in-law, who showed me that you can combine artistic output with a career and family, in some form — I had not seen that before — but that you need reserves of willpower to keep moving forward. And to my artistic and creative friends, who are there to bounce ideas off, sometimes even collaborate with, and keep the sparks ignited: thank you!

I celebrated the holidays, this project, and all our shared creativity, at my hybrid open house, Dec 4, 2021.