The gift that really did keep on giving

When I was in college, I received a terrific gift: a drawing table with a large surface and the ability to be folded to a 6-inch width. Handy when you moved as much as I did in those days and the decade that followed. The table was from one of my four brothers, David. Today is the 20th anniversary of his death at age 36. He was one of the early AIDS victims and it was shattering to watch such a vibrant, athletic man wither before our eyes.    

David had a knack for finding the right present and followed my late mother's dictum of giving gifts that the recipient would never buy. Generally, though, my mom's gifts were whimsical while David's were far more practical. Like her, he was thoughtful and knew me inside out. He always surprised me with exactly what I wanted - even when I hadn't asked for it. I still carry around the beautiful, leather knapsack he gave me when he knew I longed to travel but couldn't afford to. I did eventually get to tote it around Europe, and still take it with me when we go.

David and I shared our birthday celebrations. He was born Sept. 27, the day before me, and two years after me. When we were young, there was a big sheet cake divided in half by pink icing on my side and blue on his. Later, my mom began a tradition of making us our favorite meal on our birthdays and I opted for pumpkin pie instead of cake. I loved the pie, but missed blowing out all the candles on our shared cake.  

The drawing table ended up being the only one I would own, and has been at the center of every studio I've had. It is scuffed; embedded with ink, paint and glitter; marred by hundreds of cuts made by razor blades, knives and Japanese hole punches. But I'd never part with it.    

Fortune found ... and maybe lost

New collage images are coming soon. Honest. I'm in the midst of making pieces for two fall shows, plus a gazillion collage tags - many themed to Halloween. Meantime, I'm corralling images from the attic archive for future pieces and that brings me to a new post on The Paper With a Past blog. It's about a cache of Fortune magazines I've been sitting on for a while as I wrestle with what to do with these valuable beauties.

A mixed Fortune - as in the magazine

For the past two years, I've been sitting on 12 classic Fortune magazines from 1932 and 1933 that are in mint condition. I was dumbstruck when I found them selling for a mere $7 each. I never thought I'd own one of these beauties, let alone for such a modest price.

At first, all I wanted to do was read them - partly because the issues were right in the throes of the Great Depression - ogle the stylish covers and swoon over the equally stylish advertisements. Fortune has always been a well-designed magazine known for bold art direction and the high-profile artists hired to illustrate its covers and features stories.

Once the initial wonder wore off, I debated whether to sell them intact, cut them up and sell them piece by piece - I discovered that early covers usually fetch at least $60 with many in the $100+ range - or use them in collages. My find was quickly turning into a mixed Fortune.

I both hate and love when the material I collect for collages turns out to be more valuable than the collages! I did approach a few area galleries and booksellers but they low-balled me at $10 an issue - even as I stood in front of covers they had priced at $125 a pop.

As I continue climbing the decision tree, the magazines sit in their crisp archival sleeves. Maybe its time to get the Paper With a Past etsy shop that I set up last year up and running?

Note: covers shown are by (clockwise, from top left) Ernest Hamlin Baker, F.V. Carpenter, Carpenter again, and Thomas Maitland Cleland.

Found: a treasure trove of botanicals

A few weeks ago, I posted the collage "Lila's Magical Night Garden" and noted that it contained a tiny section of a lithograph from a John Lewis Childs seed catalog. I was hoarding the plate, because it was one of only two in my archive. Well, that all changed with a fantastic find this week. Read more about it on the Paper With a Past blog and view five more of the 40 plates that are now mine!

Woo hoo! A spectacular botanical find.

A few weeks ago, on my collage blog, I wrote about parceling out a beautiful lithograph of fuschias from the John Lewis Childs Catalogue of 1887. At the time, it was one of two seed catalog images I had in my library. That has changed.

Earlier this week, I was in a shop, waiting to pay for maps I needed for a few collages, when I began flipping through a box on the front counter. In it: random pages from books that were being sold for 25 cents each. I snapped up pages from a book titled "Friendships Gleanings," which I 'm trying to find out more about. Then I grabbed a few of children from who knows what book. Then, I spotted the worn cover of Chase Brothers Co. New England Nurseries 1902 catalog, "With Camera and Brush." Beneath it: 40 of the 48 lithographs that were originally included. I was momentarily breathless - really - then came to my senses, grabbed all of them and ended up paying just $8 for the batch.

The even-numbered pages are where the "brush" comes in via colorful lithographs printed by Stecher Lithographic Company, which, like Chase, was based in Rochester, N.Y. I'm researching who the artist is. There's a symbol on each plates that looks like a J and a W. The odd-numbered pages are where the "camera" enters with black and white photographs showing the plants in a variety of settings - backyards, front yards, draping porches, etc. - as well as more varieties. Those pages offer a description of the plants shown opposite them and often include a snippet of poetry ("I love the light anemones, That tremble to the faintest Breeze.").

The plates are a bit worse for wear, especially around the edges, but quite a few are in good condition and all are usable. As always, I'll most likely hold some back as too nice to cut up - even after I've finished scanning them into the digital archive.

Eugenie's friends felt it was time for an intervention

No more butterflies after this piece. Honest. This is a work in progress, but I'm so excited about how it's developing, that I had to post it. It's my first real effort of creating a piece in a box, which I've wanted to do since starting collage making.

Yes, I know that the other butterflies were in shallow shadowboxes, but they were essentially flat collages placed in pre-covered cloth boxes.

Foam-core board pushes Eugenie out from the back of the box - a bit hard to see in the scan - and watercolor paper reinforces the butterflies, which float and bend behind and in front of her.

A piece of plexiglass will cover the box and there may be more butterflies; most likely up against the inside of the glass. Yet to be decided: how to attach the glass. Initially, the plan was to drill small holes and screw it on. Now, though, I'm thinking vintage upholstery tacks or something edgier.

Despite the numerous classes I've taken on box making - which included plenty of great tips on how to paper them - I never seem to miter the croners correctly. Here that didn't matter, because the paper is being layered on the box, starting with tissue thin pages on the outside from "The Butterfly Book." Inside, are more pages from "The Butterfly Book," as well as The Chatterbox and a vintage songbook.

As you can see on the back, below, I've been inking the edges and paper. To do that, I used three colors of ColorBox's Fluid Chalk ink. I have scads of the pads but this is the first time I've used them. Love the soft, transparent effect. Well, more when it's finished.

Sumptuous engravings, unscrupulous publisher

I was up in the attic earlier this week rummaging through books for specific images for a few collage series when I came across a battered copy of The Royal Chatterbox. This oversized edition was published by R. Worthington in 1881 and, as I discovered yesterday, the work was pirated. Worthington lifted poems and engravings from the weekly British children's magazine, and repackaged them in a beautiful gift book filled with nostalgic, romantic and idyllic images.

Like many American publishers, Worthington had no qualms about republishing other pubishers' work without their permission. If you think publishing's cut throat now, just return to the 19th century and the early battles over copyright. Publishers Weekly is filled with news stories about copyright infringement.

Worthington won some early fights, defying Estes & Lauriat, the American company with the rights to The Chatterbox, to prove that the Worthington books were identical. "My books are all original in title and matter," he wrote in an ad in the Sept. 27, 1884 issue of Publishers' Weekly. In the end, Worthington got his comeuppance: he went bankrupt after losing the right to publish any book with Chatterbox in the title.

The pages in my book have darkened a bit but the engravings are nothing short of spectacular. I just began scanning them into the digital archive and thought I'd share two examples.

Tag sale!

Well, this week I delivered 90 - yes, 90 - of the Fit To Be Tied® collage tags/bookmarks/whatever to my first retail clients: The Bonbonerie in O'Bryonville and NVISION in Northside. Next: Redtree in Oakley. The orders just about wiped out my inventory, so I whipped up a slew of new tags yesterday and will be working on more next week. Now, if only the Studio Fairy would show up and help me seal, stamp, bag and tag 'em!

Oh, the reason you don't see the hole in most of these is because I am scanning them in before I punch it and add the hand-painted reinforcements. Yeah, another task the Studio Fairy could complete with a swipe of her magic wand.

Italian Shoes: A Woman Can Dream

This collage may look familiar to regular readers. It's an updated version of The Yearning, which I had been looking at for a while, rethinking it. My first impulse was to cut it down, but I resisted. Instead, I kept changing the title; it went from "The Yearning" to "Shoe Fetish" to "A Girl Can Dream" to "Italian Shoes: A Woman Can Dream."

But the other day, I was leafing through the Dec. 1940 issue of Ladies Home Journal searching for images for a food series and happened to glance up at the collage just as a shoe ad caught my eye. Aha moment! More shoes, that's what it needed. I added two that are bigger than the others and help direct the eye. Small change but a big difference. So, it remains the same size:  5.5" x 8.5" on archival mat board. {SOLD}

Mad Women on a smaller scale

Between larger collages, I've been working on the gift tag collages for a few retail shops in town (more on that when they are actually in the shops). As I was scanning the finished tags into the computer, I noticed that the '40s/'50s fashion tags have taken on the same "don't give me any X#$+" attitude as the Mad Women series. I seem incapable of creating a straight-up fashion tag!

From the scrap heap

My friend Shirley Tenhover has been collecting Victoriana and vintage paper - among many other things - since the 1960s. Although she has downsized a few times, and moved, and jettisoned some of her collections she seems to have an unending array of paper.

It turns up as notes and cards to friends, on theme-decorated dining tables, in her own crafts and - luckily for me - in my mailbox! Every now and again, I get a surprise package from her new home in North Carolina. It's always thrilling to open.

This week, a selection of beautiful Victorian scraps turned up, along with the Holy Grail of paper collectors these days: Halloween (I'll post those later). The scraps here are about a third of what she sent, there are more butterflies, tiny animals and people, and lots more of the birds, some of which are being turned into a series of small collages already.

It's wonderful to have friends who share their largesse and who, in the process, inspire new work!

Beaches: revisited

Soooo. I let those two beach collages that were "finished" last week sit for a bit. Then, decided that some text was the extra touch they needed. (SOLD)

Hue exhibit: just a few days left

"Shell Shocked"

"Emma's Daily Stroll Caused Quite A Buzz" 

"hue, yellow" the summer exhibition at gallery One, One ends Friday (Aug. 5). I had five collages in it and two - above - have been sold. But ... the three below are still available!

"It Was the '60s and the World Was At Their Feet"

"Magic Lantern"

"Brad Smiled But His 35th Birthday Left Him Feeling Off Center"