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.