It’s my annual roundup of things from outside the cut-and-paste realm, shared because the third Collage-O-Rama opened this past weekend and it will consume 100% of my attention if I let it.
There are three things I want to share first, though.
1. The Colorwork collage class I’m offering at Schack in Everett this Saturday needs two more signups. I’m bringing some fun supplies like the colorful shiny tape I use, and if I can get my sewing machine tuned up in time, I’ll bring it so you can try some sewn collage as a little bonus. You can find it and my other classes here: https://www.schack.org/collage
2. Thursday night (May 14) I’ll be at Bothell City Hall once again hosting the one-page-no-scraps collage challenge during the Arts Alive Art Walk, 5-8pm. It’s a free, drop-in arrangement with all supplies provided.
3. Collage-O-Rama is open Thursday-Saturday noon-6pm and Sunday 1-6pm through June 4 at Slip Gallery in Seattle. Come check it out! https://www.specialagentcollagecollective.com/collage-o-rama
10 things I acquired at Seattle Art Book Fair yesterday that are definitely not collage
I could have spent an entire day browsing but made do with 45 minutes. Had I lingered any longer, I would have needed to purchase a tote bag to carry around my haul.
Also, you know by now that when I do these "10 things" lists I'm referring to the number 10 conceptually, not a definitive enumeration, right?
Manifesto Destiny: Alternatives to Growth at All Costs, published under Adelaide Blair’s project The PNW Conceptual Art Center. My Art is Love manifesto is published in this anthology along with 20 other artists. Side note: you’ll know that I wrote this manifesto myself with my own clumsy brain because it contains a typo that took me 3 years to find. There was a time when I would have been mortified about such a thing but look, imperfection is more interesting anyway.
Heather Corcoran’s Headache Clouds, a visual essay about chronic headache pain. I was drawn to Heather's table because of a community-sourced project she had at her table where people could contribute descriptions of pain to help when the sensations are overwhelming enough to inhibit communication.
A trio of booklets from Temporary Services, which "seeks to create and participate in ethical relationships that are not competitive and are mutually beneficial." Their latest postcard, shown with the booklets, is a good one. Also, fellow artists, social media is not a good enough record of the work you do. A website is marginally better in that at least you own it for as long as you are willing to update it. Print still matters.
A dos-à-dos book titled Belltown Paradise on one side and Making Their Own Plans on the other. Collectively, it's about public art in the everyday places where we live. I bought it because Belltown Paradise includes work by Buster Simpson. A 15-minute conversation with him fixed my internal artist struggles last year and I've been paying attention to the ways he has organized his work ever since.
Common Area had their mobile bookstore out in front and y'all, it's too cute. I picked up Willa Goettling's accordion zine A Geology Breaks in Half to Grow as well as a packet of prints from CAM's Mail Art Club.
I'm a sucker for booklets on creating a record of work in the world, so I picked up Robert Baxter's commonplace booklet Some Notes on Publishing and Education.
I'm also a sucker for little zines about cats, like this trio from Jackson Barnes.
I've been a fan of Erika Rier's work for a long time. I'm not sure how we met, but several years back I enjoyed some evening cocktails with her and Joel, her spouse and studio partner, at the now-closed Lolo Pass in Portland. Her zines are creative and inventive and I'm glad she creates them. I added two to my collection -- Pageant and In the Middle or the Beginning or Perhaps It Was the End. I kept my hand in the photo for scale.
For as long as I've been an artist I've been drawn to the use of transparency, whether through semi-translucent layers or transparent pigments that allow applications of paint to reveal their backgrounds. I couldn't resist Rebecca Ustrell's zines Private Entrance and the tiny trio for Retreat -- Repeat, especially since they are both relevant to places that intersect with my life. Both include imagery from Claremont, CA, where I went to grad school for business before I realized I desperately wanted to work creatively.
Until next time,
Andrea
