After a long hiatus from making collages, I forced myself to sit down and play. I say play because I felt pressure (self-inflicted, of course) to create a good collage, one that fits in a series nicely. This somehow grew into the need to create one that is the best I have ever done. I don't know why I felt this pressure. Perhaps it grew from the artist's guilt. Oh, you know artist's guilt, I'm sure. It's the voice that continually asks, "Why aren't you working on your art?" It strikes in the middle of a movie, during dinner, while out with friends...this guilt knows no time or place as it demands you to get your butt back to the drafting table.
Usually a bit of pressure acts as a decent motivator for me, but for weeks it was quite the opposite of motivation: I was bored with the whole idea. And collaging isn't always the most comfortable process, either, with the modgepodge all sticky and half-dry on your fingers, bits of paper and material floating around everywhere, and continually losing the x-acto knife underneath ripped magazines. Surprise! Another bandaged finger.
I convinced myself that it wasn't worth "the hassle" and as a result, I didn't collage for months.
Until last night, when I told myself to play. Not to create a masterpiece, not to add to any series of work, not to have a huge philosophical reason, not to even finish a collage. Just play. Just get something in motion.
It's something I want to improve.
Half the work is "just getting your butt in the chair." Or, as Picasso said, "Inspiration exists, but it has to find us working."
Usually a bit of pressure acts as a decent motivator for me, but for weeks it was quite the opposite of motivation: I was bored with the whole idea. And collaging isn't always the most comfortable process, either, with the modgepodge all sticky and half-dry on your fingers, bits of paper and material floating around everywhere, and continually losing the x-acto knife underneath ripped magazines. Surprise! Another bandaged finger.
I convinced myself that it wasn't worth "the hassle" and as a result, I didn't collage for months.
Until last night, when I told myself to play. Not to create a masterpiece, not to add to any series of work, not to have a huge philosophical reason, not to even finish a collage. Just play. Just get something in motion.
It's something I want to improve.
Half the work is "just getting your butt in the chair." Or, as Picasso said, "Inspiration exists, but it has to find us working."
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