This collage has been in the making for several months. It is a gift for someone who helped me become a bit more visible in the world. Need proof of visibility? You’re reading this and if you truly have nothing else to do, the 72 other entries since I started this venture in the beginning of April.
It began life as a watercolor painting and a red fishing hook and a single strand of fishing line. I used it in the post about change a month ago. Then, I had to get all polaroidy and I used it in an entry about accidental art.
But, it was not done. I had to add text words that would only have meaning in the context of the relationship and I just couldn’t figure out how to merge the text so it was both invisible and visible, readable and not, and above all didn’t end up as a simple reading exercise instead of a mixed media thing-a-mah jig. I tried all sorts of photoshop shenanigans that went nowhere.
Then, today, I’m reading Tysdaddy’s blog (I was procrastinating, of course, the deadline is looming) and he’s thinking he’s just been bloggin’ lite lately and promises more meaty blogs when I read his suggestion for today’s procrastinators! It’s a website called wordle and it whips words into artistic shapes!
Eureka!
Miracle!
This visiblity thing is working out pretty good. What do you think?
And, let’s give a shout out to procrastination! I always knew it was a fine and good thing. Are you listening, nuns of my youth?
50 years later I finally have proof.
©Pat Coakley 2008
PHOTOGRAPHS CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT PERMISSION
I’m glad that art makes you feel visible. It demonstrates another purpose of the arts devoted to seeing.
I am so glad I could help. That’s what us blogging buddies are for. Your picture is awesome . . .
what an amazing gift. You know, I am totally jealous of people who have artistic ability. I have zero. I can design yes. I have an eye for color, but I cannot paint, draw, sculpt, sew, knit, or anything “crafty”. When I look at those of you who have that talent, I do have wistful thoughts.
Im considering taking an art class soon… maybe I can learn technique where I lack talent. …. Beautiful job. I love the symbology!
I’m having a problem with the hook. I like it’s seductive and alluring colour but I associate hooks not just with ensnaring, but also with pain.
Without trying to “piss in your pocket” (an Australian expression meaning to flatter so as to make you feel better), I don’t think that discovering and getting to know you would be painful.
I guess one of the issues is about externalising the internal by getting your ideas out and sharing them with the world so that people begin to understand what lies behind the your surfaces.
Very often we meet faces but not minds. Through this blog I feel like I’ve been hotwired straight into you brain…… and I like the view.
If I was going to portray you visually I would photograph a uniform field of clover with one little brightly coloured flower in the one of the three quarters points of the composition. Not in the centre but off a little to the side towards the bottom in a humbly beautiful asymmetrical harmony.
Pat… don’t look now, but I think you might have an admirer…
Razzbuffnik – the hook and the pain and Pat – have you actually watched her video on her trying to open the plastic package????? We are talking pain here….lol Or have you read her pissed off letter to Panera Bread Company after they messed up her favorite bread? (how she and I met) I think there might just be some sharp bits on this alluring hook…
Isn’t it strange that true art can not be forced but rather it is a fire within you that simmers and then simmers some more till one day it all clicks together and you bring that fire into “reality”…
This one has a lot of your heart and soul yet you are still hiding, this is a beautiful piece for that fact, it speaks to me.
Amber
Don’t read too much into what I’ve said. I do have high regard for what Pat has to express but not enough to check out videos that require me to load up Quicktime ;-)
Welcome, Althea, and thanks for taking the time to comment. I just went to your site and had that little shock of color moment (ah!)–was taken right in by your tropical colors painting! Yes, my heart did indeed beat a bit faster. That really did happen! I liked what you wrote about it as well, Surfaces. I’ll be back to visit.
Tysdaddy, will you give us a book report on Razzman’s book suggestion of Alexander Durrell’s four volumes? (previous post people) Maybe we should start a book club here! I would love that.
Razzman, I have not misread your words but am simply totally grateful for them. The hook indeed is the centerpiece and in this instance he had to do some fishing in painful waters to get a truth or two out of me. And, now, I’m going to think of how I’d express you visually? Hmm…could I improve on images from your own life? Motorcycle accident and while you and bike are in mid-air after impact, you decide to eject yourself from bike and do a roll and tumble worthy of Olga Korbut to land on your feet on the side of the road? Ta-da! I am the Razzman. Nah, I couldn’t improve on that image. No way.
Amber, wistful thoughts can lead to great things or embarassment. I have them about singing and playing the guitar like Bonnie Raitt. I was singing in the car a few days ago while taking the kids home from their visit and the 10 year old, from the back seat says, “Umm..Er…Pappy? No offense, but could you stop singing?” And then all three of them went into hysterics. Jeesh! I kept on singing till we got to Dunkin’ Donuts Drive-Thru and ordered our Coolatas in song form, too! That’ll teach em. Their heads may still be on the floor from embarrassment.
Sanity, you always see, girl. You always do.
“I have not misread your words but am simply totally grateful for theme have not misread your words but am simply totally grateful for them”
I’m glad I’m not misunderstood (by you at least). I still question the idea that getting to know you would be painful.
I recognize that meetings are sometimes like some beautiful hand carved Waterford crystal glasses in that that are so vulnerable and fragile. To drink from them is a delight but to smash them in a fireplace after a worthy toast is sublime and it transcends the mundane.
I’ve just spent an excellent evening with my neighbour and good wife. We drank some lovely shiraz and ate some excellent chicken (cooked in the Greek style). I sang your praises as we drank to your health. It’s too bad you don’t live near by because my wife and I would enjoy your company and I know our company would enjoy you.
For what it’s worth, you’re appreciated……… by total strangers.
Pat and Razz – sorry I thought it was cute and didn’t mean romantic interest with what I wrote nor did I mean to embarrass either one of you. I thought your prose was so sweet, and funny Razz. I was not trying to read into it more. Im sorry it came across that way. Text sucks sometimes for tone.
Razz, did you see the post where i included a quote from a famous Los Angeles 70’s contemporary art gallery owner, Walter Hopps? He was quoting an unnamed poet from UCLA: “Art offers the possibility of love with strangers.”
This has been what blogging has been for me as well. Which is why I understood Amber’s comment about your post. I knew what she picked up on was the mutual appreciation. And, it is in the love family. I know it feels that way for me. It’s most like the love I have for the children in my life–just joy at their uniqueness, their emerging talents, and how they fit me into their life and take what they need and give me so much more in return. What Amber may not know is that besides the Razzman, I also love Razzman’s wife cuz she can sit with you next to your chimera (sp?) without an IV drip of Xanax. And, just so you know, I’d be delighted to have dinner with you and your wife and friends, but I’m not goin’ in any room with a fireplace with you around. Oh, No, siree. A Shiraz well drunk dry, Greek chicken, good company could not convince me. N-0. And, the reason I’ll bring a very large pocketbook to the dinner is that I need room for the portable fire extinguisher.
I didn’t take offense what what Amber had to say. After all I’ve had the Khmere Rouge fire mortars at me and my ego is like a shield of steel.
Fear not the chimanea! Engogirl (wife of razzbuffnik) is the tireless mistress of such things. The Razzbuffnik basks in the warmth of fire these days, bound and and constrained by trusted Μυρμιδόνες and as such is no longer a danger to guests.