New Year’s Day – No Resolutions for Me!

Karen

I finished a new altered book yesterday. It’s a little darker than my usual style. I’m not ready to photograph and post it just yet . . . maybe tomorrow.

I am doing my best not to make any new year’s resolutions. What’s the point? I never keep them. If I were to make one resolution (which I am NOT going to do), I would set a goal to make myself more organized. Is that even possible? I think I have a bad gene, which I fear I’m passing on to at least one of my sons.

My studio / office is a tiny bedroom that is filled wall-to-wall with so much stuff that I can barely walk through the door. I have a little path between a box of canvases and a pile of old printers and scanners that I swear I’m going to donate to someone someday. Occasionally, I try to cull through the debris, but it just reappears, as if by dark magic. I shift piles around so I can get to my books, and then shift another pile to get to my papers, and so on and so forth.

I have some plastic boxes and drawers labeled with where things go– this would be almost impressive if I put things right back into the proper place when I’m finished with them. But no . . .

The other day, while working on this altered book, I was looking for a little spool of red wire. I must have spent 45 minutes wasting my time and energy looking for that wire. (And in my head, I’m still looking!) Now, I have some outer forces that conspire against me: a son who likes “my stuff” and picks things up to use occasionally, and a husband who loves to tidy up and puts things back in the wrong place, God bless his soul. But really, those are just excuses. This is all on me.

Back to the wire . . . I had to think back . . . when did I last use it? Oh yes, I made a wire heart. I was working in the kitchen because I was burning the wire by the sink. But it’s not there. And I was using my orange handled wire cutters. Maybe if I find the wire cutters, the wire will be lying next to it. Miracle of miracles, I find the wire cutters, but the wire is not there. Maybe it fell into a drawer, so I go through a few drawers. Nothing. God help me if it fell on the floor somewhere, between the crevices of one of my piles of junk.

Soon my energy is depleted and I’m pissed off at myself for not putting that spool of wire back in in the little “Wire” drawer. Yes, I actually have a drawer for wire. I feel angry and stupid at myself. So I end up using red thread for the book. I doesn’t look bad . . . in fact I kind of like it.

Later, when the book’s all done, I call in my son for a critique. John is brutally honest and I trust his judgement. He says it’s “okay” but he thinks I should have used a thicker red thread because he can barely see it. Of course . . . I should have used the damn red wire!!

An Altered Book :: The Gift

Karen

From my notebook. June 13, 2005

It’s mother’s day. We’re sittng on the porch outside my parents’ home. There’s six of us, sitting, talking– my mom and dad, by sister and her husband, and my husband.

A house sparrow has made a nest in the painted metal sailboats that hang on the wall. She’s tucked it beneath one of the brightly painted sails. There’s a little rust here and there where the paint has worn away. I can’t see the eggs, but I know they’re in there. Small, pale blue, lightly speckled.

We’ve scared the mother off, and she sits anxiously in a nearby shrub, waiting for an opportunity to return to her nest. Sometimes she tries to make it– bravely swooping in, but then quickly darting away when someone moves an arm or speaks too loudly.

I feel sorry for this bird for her and her anxiousness. I almost want to move everyone inside so she can get back to her nest.

She tries to approach again, resting on the top of the metal mast, watching warily, but then my dad waves his arm for emphasis and she flies off again. I’m agitated, like her. I can’t follow the conversaton. I watch her watch us, waiting.

She swoops again. This time she lingers on the edge of the boat and stays, gaining confidence. She slowly works her way behind that sail and settles down into the nest. She feels safe, hidden, protected. I see her small brown eye looking towards me. But I feel better now, knowing she’s back in her nest.

Two weeks later I’m back to help take care of Mom and to look after Dad. I walk onto the porch again to check on the birds. But when I look behind the boat for the nest, I find that it’s gone.

Inside the boats are seven delicate eggs. Remnants of the nest are strewn about here and there. I wonder if an animal got to it. But then, the eggs would probably be gone.

I ask my dad if he knows what happened to the nest.

“No. I didn’t even realize it was gone. Sandie,” he says to my mom, “do you know what happend to the nest that was in among the boats?”

“Oh those messy birds! I just can’t stand it. I had to clean up that mess.”

“But honey, that was a bird’s nest,” my father says gently.

“I just don’t care. They just can’t come around and leave a mess like that!”

“Okay, mom,” I say. “It’s okay.”

This is my new mom talking– the one who’s on the edge of being a stranger to me, and I to her. She’s the one I’m trying to get to know. Old mom cherished birds. Old mom took care of three or four bird feeders hanging full of seed near every window where she could watch them. Old mom could name every bird she saw. Old mom filled hummingbird feeders with sugar water, and called her daughters over every time a hummer came near.

My old mom was heartbroken by every bird who lost its life against an unseen window. She had bird guides and binoculars always at the ready. When two house sparrows built their house foolishily and precarioulsy in the narrow porch rafters two summers ago, she didn’t even want us going outside so as not to disturb them.

This new mother is a stranger to me. I want my old mother back, the one who would have done just about anything to protect the bird’s nest in the boat.

It’s five months since that I wrote that entry. I have created an altered book and written a poem about that moment. You can find it on my web site at Found Object Assemblages :: The Gift.

Altered Book Covers

Karen

I recently received the following email from an aspiring altered book artist: How do you prepare the hard cover itself to receive what is to be glued onto it?

First of all, I suggest leaving the cover for last. The reason is that if you plan on doing a lot of work in your altered book over a period of time, you don’t want to have to worry about damaging the artwork on the cover while you’re working on the inside of the book. Plus, if you put any three dimensional items onto the cover, it will be difficult to work inside the book if you need it to lie flat.

When you’re done with the inside, there are a lot of possibilities for how to decorate the front cover. If you plan on adding any embellishments, I would suggest using Golden soft gel medium. It has a nice, creamy texture that isn’t runny and it dries clear. Keep some baby wipes handy to wipe up any stray medium that squishes out as you press down on the items that you’re applying.

If the book has a cloth or paper-type cover, you can paint it first with acrylics. You can use a brush or even sponges to apply your paint. Be careful about over-wetting the cover; you don’t want it to warp too much. If the cover does warp, wrap it in waxed paper and put a weight on top of it. I use my pasta machine as a weight and it works great.

If the cover of the book has a glossy finish, I would recommend sanding the cover first to remove the plasticky surface so that things will adhere properly. You may even want to paint over the sanded surface with gesso to eliminate any artwork that is on the cover. This might take two coats of gesso to accomplish. I often sand the dried gesso again for a really smooth surface. Or if you’re looking for a textured finish, use rubber stamps, bubble wrap, combs, burlap or other textured items to press into the damp gesso to leave an impression.
On the other hand, you might want to allow parts of the title or cover illustrations to show through. It’s up to you.

Another possibility for finishing the cover of your altered book, is to cover it with decorative paper, which can be painted, embellished, or collaged for a really nice look.

Book + Art = ?

Karen

A couple of months ago, in a post titled Rejected!, I wrote about my attempt to get some of my altered books into a a book arts show. It was my first time trying to get accepted into a juried show, and of course, I was a bit disappointed that I wasn’t accepted. Apparently they had a lot of entries. At least that’s some consolation. Anyhow, the art from the exhibit is now being shown online and you can see it here. There are some beautiful, amazing books. I especially liked the first place winner by Tara O’Brien called Framework. as well as Roots of Self by Nina Zingale. Most of the books are fairly traditional in the sense that they tend to lie flat and look like books are generally expected to look. But there are also some very unique books on display that give a good sense of how a book can break out of its bindings and become real works of art. The online exhibit is definitely worth checking out.

New Adventure! Altered Books! Artful Journeys!

Karen

I am nearing the end of an exiting adventure: creating this new blog using WordPress. This has been a wonderful learning experience for me. Don’t you just love it when your mind churns with new concepts and all your hard-work at learning the curve finally works out?

Many thanks to the kind, patient, and talented Cricket Bailey of for her hours of hand-holding and guidance throughout the past (almost) year.

Also, a shout-out to Andy Skeltoac and Catsudon for their terrific tutorials on transferring my Blogspot files to their new home.

In addition, thank you to Joni Mueller for the Iris theme which I drastically modified but which is based on her original design, and to Squid Fingers who makes the most beautiful background patterns, and finally to Lady K. for the Typogenerator and addictive little app which helped me create my banner.

Just one more small step on my Artful Journey.