Outside of the internet I don't talk about art much. I spend my day in a cubicle. In the thick of corporate culture. In the heart of a red state. It's all corrective action requests and profit statements. Inboxes and soulessness. It's many things but none of them creative. Not one of them invigorating.
When I do talk about collage, I can feel myself constrict. My shoulders tighten and lift. My posture bends. My head tucks in. My eyes find some point in the middle distance to stare off into. I talk about it like a confession. Like a shameful admittance. Like something regrettable.
Two weeks ago today, I stepped off a plane in New Orleans, got into an Uber, and then walked into the Artisan Bar and Cafe for Kolaj Fest Registration and sign-in. It had only started 30 minutes before I arrived but already every table in the venue was filled with people collaging. It was baffling. This was something different. This was something new.
When I found collage, it was in solitude. I spent years climbing a ladder that threw me off because downsizing helped the bottom line. The musical career I dreamed would one day save me from it all never materialized. And six figures of student debt still hadn't presented me with any better opportunities. I was tired and desperate, and I needed something, anything, to keep my soul from growing cold, from calcifying, from succumbing to the atrophy of disuse. Collage became the quiet place at the end of the day I could hide out from the world. Collage, for me, bore a faint waft of failure. I came to collage because I had fucked up everything.
But now? I found myself standing at the edge of a room made alive by the presence of people and the texture of paper, cut, ripped, and torn. This was something different. This was something new.
I made an attempt to mingle. And by "attempt" I mean not at all. And by "mingle" I mean trying to be as unobtrusive and as unnoticeable as one could be. If there's one thing I'm truly exceptional at, one thing above all others of which I am the most gifted and skilled, it's avoiding conversations by being unseen. A task that quickly proved to be impossible in a gathering as intimate as Kolaj Fest.
Other than Kirk Read, the friend who invited me there, the first two people I met were Craig Deppen Auge and Jessa Dupuis. (Find them on IG here and here)
Craig is an artist who works in both collage and assemblage. His work is full of pattern and poetry and movement. It's geometric and poised. Fluid and beautiful.
Jessa is equal parts collage artist and graphic designer, and she blends the two worlds together seamlessly. Her work is vibrant, balanced, graceful, and communicative. And, if I can nerd-out for a minute, her use of type and text makes me unbelievably happy.
But even more than that, they're both so full of warmth and welcome. They're the kind of people you'd do anything for. Whether they needed a coffee or a kidney you'd gladly give it to them if they asked you to.
I listened to them talk about their craft. About their methods, and motivations, and approaches. They did so with gravity and weight. With joy and exuberance, but also with seriousness and complexity. There was none of the implicit shamefulness I’m so used to hearing whenever I try to talk about these things. This was something different. Something startling. Something new.
You hear people talk about life events after which everything changed. Meeting the love of your life. The birth of your children. Moments when the Earth shifts and you can feel the entirety of the world reshape. I've had some of those moments in my life, and this is one of them.
I didn't get to spend as much time with Jessa as I would have liked to, but I had the pleasure of collaging beside Craig almost every day. Looking back on the work I made there, I can see the subtle ways his influence shows up in some of the things I made:
I still have more Kolaj Fest work to share so stay tuned. If you'd like to read Part 1, you can find it here.
P.S. ICAD Day 24-26:
P.P.S - Since getting back from Kolaj Fest I’ve decided to start submitted more of my collages to Open Calls for art work. Here’s a piece I just sent off to be considered for an art show in Prague. The guidlines required it to be size A4. Much, much larger than the scale I’m used to working at. Wish me luck.
this is beautifully written, beautifully felt. i can really relate to that feeling of embarrassment and shame around my artistic work. i too want to recede in the background, not cause a fuss. not cause any sort of emotional response in others, maybe because i feel so deeply, and it's hard for others to understand.
i also think some of it, for me, is i find it hard to explain to people who don't make work every day, don't have that obsession, that quasi-spiritual pull with art. they look at me like i'm insane. and yet, i'm finding that that embarrassment lifts when i'm showing it to other artists, people who understand that life and dedication. plus, i like to remind myself as i'm spending hours on collages or music: "it's better than Facebook." so much less embarrassing than those that bleed out their lives on social media, doing nothing but scrolling.
your collages are absolutely beautiful and deep. thank you for sharing.
Don't be too hard on yourself… as creative souls we all suffer through this dilemma frequently. I think it's 1) exposing a side of self in how we view the world that's touches creation yet makes a bold statement. The fears of "what if's "running rampant that underpin this feeling of exposing our art to a world that may not get what we're doing and why we create. 2) It's much like a child. Creative people tend to be protective of their voices and hands and what creative expression comes from them. We also learn how to loosen the strings and show who we are through writing. Through art. Through music and the like…
When we step out of comfort zone and shine. Look what happens. A beautiful example of stepping forward with your artistry. Art, no matter its creative expression or substrate is a powerful healing tool. Whaat I like about collage is that blend of destruction and creation. I know some people have issue with ripping and tearing books, pages, paper. I get that. I read and own books that I wouldn't destroy. At the same time it's way cool to find a book that was left to be decomposed. It gets repurposed into something beautiful and imaginative, that's enjoyed by many.
Art.is.try and ICAD and your work showcase this. Well done. Great set of ICAD's that go with your writing.