In this collage series inspired by sea and river voyages, shipwrecks tilt on the ice, abstract shapes go swimming, and an arctic hare chews on a twig. Meanwhile, a famous Norwegian explorer inhabits a turnip-shaped kayak, and a tapir chooses a canoe for his journey downstream.
(This collage has a poem to accompany it!)
From the depths of keepsake piles in my mother’s house emerged a Father’s Day card and a birthday gift that I made in the 1970’s. 
The inside of the Father’s Day card contained a car and some of my thoughts.
The Father’s Day message became the centerpiece for a recent collage in his honor.
The second piece of 1970’s ephemera was a birthday gift for my dad. It was a hand-taped envelope made from lined notebook paper that contained watches that I’d cut out from magazines. (The coffee stain is original).
The long-ago selected watch photos and text from the card inspired a second collage for my father.
Dad, thank you for keeping the cards that I made for you so many years ago. And thank you most of all for being such a fun, supportive, and loving father. I miss you!
To make the floral river, I used handmade papers, fabric flowers, ink, and paint-pens. I hope the river is a cheering river!
Even though I never met David Oliver in person, his larger-than-life presence on Facebook made a deep impression on me. Through a hometown connection to his son Brad, I learned about David’s efforts to create a compassionate model of end-of-life care. I also discovered how much Brad and David adored the band Rush after a double-strength dose of Oliverian charm persuaded me to send both men Rush stamps from Canada in 2013.
Both in death and in life, David has inspired me, and I hope this collage can effectively reflect his love of travel, nature, family, and the Missouri Tigers (hence the black and gold color-scheme).
Brad told me that haiku was one of David’s favorite poetic forms, and the three arches (a reference to trips to Istanbul) contain one line each from a haiku of David’s. May “Living the Moment” do justice to a brave man who embodied the art of living with cosmic joy and unbridled enthusiasm.
As a mostly self-taught collage artist, I had never studied the medium formally until I took an eight-week course this fall. I am so grateful I decided to attend Donnely Smallwood’s class at the Toronto School of Art, for it helped me look at collage through fresh eyes and taught me new techniques.
External Validation 1987 emerged from the process of playing with the construction (and deconstruction) of identity based on artifacts of official achievement: grade reports, standardized test scores, photographs, newspaper articles, and a badge from a 1987 teen pageant. As I worked on the décollage, it felt cathartic to glue down and tear back these defining layers of personal history, creating something new from the documentary “evidence” of academic perfection and parental approval, examining the official proof of my self-worth.
The following photos show the process of collage and décollage that created External Validation 1987.
Along with flip flops, sunscreen, and a hat, I did not forget to take my collage bag with me on vacation! I made the following collages on rainy days and quiet evenings in a hotel in Elliot Lake, Ontario.
As my mother clears boxes of old papers from her house, hundreds of pieces of ephemera have surfaced from previous decades, including a set of Wispy Walker paper doll clothes that I played with in the 1970’s. The pantsuits, nightgowns, and dresses were too unique to simply throw in the recycling bin, so I kept them in reserve to become the stars of twelve collages.
Four years ago today, I lost a childhood friend to cancer. She was only forty-one years old. To celebrate Jenny and her love of all things purple and fun, I’d like to dedicate this tufted art piece to her memory. I communed with her playful, artistic spirit as I built layers of paper with matte medium and then began a process of décollage.
The photo-chronology below begins with the first layer of collage, builds to the top layer, and then documents the process of tearing away and other alterations.
I miss you very much, Jenny! I’ll never forget your hilarious laugh, astuteness, and loving smile.
Over the past few months, I’ve been enjoying the chance to meet with a friend and make collages in response to The Druid Animal Oracle Deck by Philip and Stephanie Carr-Gomm. Last week, I selected Frog, whose key words are Sensitivity, Medicine, and Hidden Beauty and Power (page 19, The Druid Animal Oracle Deck booklet).
I started the collage at a coffee shop with a large wooden table and completed it at home. The resulting piece emerged with the help of paper, stickers, paint pens, and watercolour.
Carr-Gomm’s booklet states that Frog is “a companion of the rain spirits” who can “help you develop your sensitivity to others, to healing and to sound through your skin and your whole body” (19).
Frog also encourages us to “look for the beauty and the magic behind appearances” (19).
Thank you, Frog, for your wisdom and artistic inspiration!
Three ravens consider life among the swirling patterns.
Two chinchillas are spending time beside a still pool. The word “still” comes from an old letter from a friend.
This rare species of knitted eagle feels as at home in the water as it does in the sky. Much less predatory than its non-textile cousins, the knitted eagle enjoys a quiet life of introspection.
Mosaic Dream Waves appears two years after my first public art exhibit, Maps of Loss: Rivers, Ruins, and Grief. On display until July 31 at Runnymede Library, Mosaic Dream Waves has a lighter approach than my previous display. Turning from melancholy to playfulness, the artwork pictured here invites you to visit an inner landscape where waves perform on stage, a mystical ornament shines, a yogini flies on a crazy quilt, and a dancing bird woman keeps company with a raven and a horse on wheels.
As part of the opening reception on July 13th, I offered a free collage workshop that took place in the program room across the hall from the gallery. My mother, Carlyle Raine, kindly offered to help with the workshop, and the beautiful art that emerged captivated us with its originality, energy, and flair.
Thank you, Runnymede Library, for fostering community art, learning, and creativity under the eaves of your poetic attic!
When making a Corn Goddess collage, please secure a supply of thread, handmade papers, and stickers. Once completed, she is ready to celebrate the summer solstice with you.
