In Progress

I thought I'd share with you the making of an artwork from start to finish... sort of. This is the third of my "The Traveler's Tale" series so far. This series is more narrative than my usual work, and is loosely based on the theme of the journey of life, both inner/mental/spiritual, and physical/temporal- not that these are by any means two separate things. I've always loved maps, and thought they were really beautiful; I've used them before in a few pieces, with interesting results. Here are a couple of examples:

Pathways of Remembrance

Dharma Mandala

For "The Traveler's Tale", I'm using maps as the dominant collage material. You can see the first one, "As the crow Flies", here. The second is finished, but has not yet been photographed; I'm just slow, lazy, too busy, or all of the above. Hopefully I'll get to that soon, if the weather cooperates.

After I have the general composition worked out in my head (I haven't done rough sketches for these because the exact composition depends too much on materials), the first thing I have to do is find the right background materials. This is really the most difficult part of the process, because the image in my head does not always coincide with available materials, so constant revisions are made as I try to come to the best compromise.

For instance, what's the overall size? If I have map pieces that fit, they may be the wrong color, or have the wrong "mood" for the piece. For example, a Cincinnati street map is not going to look right if the piece has a medieval theme. But how much can I splice parts of maps together without making it look too sloppy or visually confusing? For this one, I wanted the hill to be one map, if possible, so this greatly limited my choices, as I had only a few that were large enough. Color, of course, is another important factor.

I chose the map of British Columbia because it was the only light-colored one that was big enough. For the sky, I wanted to use part of an old monotype. It wasn't really big enough, though, so I knew I'd have to supplement it with something else- hopefully the blue ocean part of the map. So I fiddled and jiggled and moved things around approximately 2 or 3 hundred times, taping things in place with artist's tape (not supposed to tear the paper), and then moving them again. Too many variables!! Eventually I get tired of this and just decide to go with what I've got at this point.

So, I glued the map piece on. As you can imagine, gluing something so huge (the overall size is about 20 x 27) can be quite problematic. For pieces this large, I use Grafix double- tack mounting film, but great care must be taken because if you put it down in the wrong spot, that's where it stays! It's great, though, because there's no wrinkling. I also attached a couple of extra map pieces, such as the one I added at the top of the hill, to make it a little taller.

The monotype I used had a tree on it which overlapped the sky too much to make it feasibly removable, so I decided I'd have to keep it. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow, right? I cut around the part of the tree that extended below the sky, then glued the sky on using the same mounting film.


Next I brewed up a mixture of acrylic inks to stain the map an appropriate color. I rubbed this on with a rag that was formerly an old cotton t-shirt, and VOILA!

Here is the new piece, so far.

Tune in next time, when we venture into the exciting and dangerous realm of (dhunt-dhunt-DHUN) IMAGE TRANSFER!

About My Process

I'm often asked about the process and techniques I use to create my work. My answer is usually something along the lines of, "Well, uh...uum..." I don't mean to be cryptic or secretive, it's just hard to explain. It can't be neatly summed up using words or phrases that everyone understands, such as, "watercolor on paper" or "etching" or even "collage." "Mixed media" is pretty vague, and covers almost anything from altered photographs to assemblage/sculpture. My process is difficult to describe partly because it's something I came up with on my own, and partly because many people aren't familiar with the terminology; the word "monotype", for instance, requires an explanation of its own. So here's my attempt to outline it as concisely as possible, and hopefully, without boring anyone to death.

My process for these mixed media pieces usually begins with a monotype serving as the base layer, to which I later add further layers of color. A monotype is basically a hand-pulled print that, put simply, amounts to transferring a painting onto paper. No "plate" is created, so only one image can be printed- hence the term "mono-". (For more info about monotypes and monoprints, click here.) The only exception in this process is that occasionally I use a watercolor painting as the base layer. The monotype itself consists of many layers of lithographic ink, thinned to transparency in order to allow the colors of previous layers to show through. In this way, I believe the mixing of colors to be richer and more varied than if I pre-mixed the inks in advance. Normally there are at least three to six passes through the press, with leaves and other plant materials included in at least some of the pressings. All of these pieces are done on a substrate of Rives BFK 100% cotton printmaking paper; inks and other materials are as archival and lightfast as possible.


Star Being II
This piece is almost entirely monotype, with very little added media.

After the monotype is dry, layers of watercolor, colored pencil, and other (mainly transparent) media are added. If any collage elements are included, they are pieces of my own monotypes or other original artwork produced by me. With this layering process, I hope to achieve a certain luminosity and brilliance, as well as a blending and unity of images. This unity is an objective in conveying the content of my work. The process I use in creating these pieces is one that I developed myself through trial and error, in an effort to achieve the result I desired.


In Angel of the Sunrise, above, I have used more additional media than in Star Being II. The wings have been defined with Caran D'Ache crayons, and parts of the background have been darkened and unified with transparent acrylic inks and paint.


Deep in the Sea of Dreams
The piece above has had many more additions than Angel of the Sunrise. The sleeping face was done with metallic oil paint sticks; I also used these to add shine to the fish. The fish itself was drawn with acrylic ink and watercolor pencils. This one also contains collage elements, such as the "third eye" and some of the plants, which were cut from old monotypes.


The images are formed from the vocabulary of symbols that I’ve developed as I sought to express the theme that lies at the foundation of it all: a deep belief in the unity and connectedness of everything in the universe. Related to this is my conviction that every part of the earth is sacred, including the myriad beings that ride it through space. At the most basic level, we are made of the same stuff as the stars, the trees, the air, the ocean. Having come from the same source, we are all connected in the most intricate ways, both visible and invisible. This belief is expressed by the transposition of objects, the overlapping of transparent images, and by forms that seem to transform into something else. I'm constantly searching for more effective methods of revealing this mystery.

Transformation 34

I just finished this piece, which I have been struggling with for some time. I have no idea why; it seems pretty simple and straightforward. Sometimes I think I can become too analytical, nit-picking and agonizing over every little decision. It can be difficult to just let go and be in the moment of creating. When I worry too much about the result ("Don't mess up!", as one of my professors told me), I just can't seem to get out of my own way. I always tell my students that making mistakes is nothing to fear, as long as we learn something from it. Words of wisdom, indeed. Remember: it's the process, not the product; it's the process, not the product...