I dunno, but maybe its all this time inside that is making me preoccupied with collaging. I'm back to working on the kitchen table with the family having to eat around me and me being territorial about them needing to make room for my supplies. I love when Carter goes to get his crayons and his Handy Mandy colouring book and sits with me for all of 5 minutes (age multiplied by attention span equals 5 minutes, but he is great at putting up his supplies before moving on, and he actually gets quite a bit done in those 5 minutes all the while talking talking talking. I wish I could do that).
The Strathmore workshop is only a month long and the journal is 44 pages, I'm trying to pace myself over time. I don't want 44 pages reflecting the first week in January...I'm trying to think in terms of story and narrative. Here are the beginnings of 3 more pages:
The last one is a picture of me and my hand as they appeared 20+ years ago. I was in a poetic performance with Voices in the Wind, a local group of women poets that I belonged to when this photo was taken by Keith Williams, a now retired photo-journalist who has helped Ade, my youngest, hone his picture-taking skills. But have you noticed that 4 out of 5 images display disembodied body parts? Okay, okay, I will not go all psycho-analytical about it...I'm just noticing, thats all.