Showing posts with label Strange Beasts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Strange Beasts. Show all posts

Prologue: Strange Beasts of the Past

























While perusing my old altered books, I found a few more pages to share from the original Strange Beasts. Above, a two-page spread completed while teaching altered art journaling at Delta College in Bay City, Michigan. This was a guided exercise to help students uncover their own artistic voice while introducing the concepts of ransom note lettering and found poetry. Below, another adventure in grungy lime-yellow with ribbon woven through the facing page. At the bottom, more experiments with geometric relations ... stripes and squares seem to be my favorite method of adding some sense of order to the otherwise chaotic pages.
























New Strange Beasts




























I often receive requests from readers for tutorials on creating altered books and various collage projects, and I would love to deliver a detailed how-to on the process ... but therein lies the challenge, as I really have no tried-and-true process.

Each book, each page is an experiment in making a mess. I don't have a vision in mind when I sit down with my inks and pens and torn scrap papers. I suppose it's a bit like a childhood sandbox: I just move things around, make piles, maybe add some found objects to the mix and see what happens. Sometimes I end up with a very happy accident, something I find intriguing or beautiful, and sometimes my big mess is just a big mess. Those are the pages I tear out, shred and glue back into new collages. Each session is different as I experiment with new materials, new techniques, new moods.

That being said, I recently happened upon another book in the "Strange Beasts" series, and rather than simply posting the end results, I've decided to chronicle my adventures in collage starting from the beginning. Not quite a tutorial, but perhaps it will offer some inspiration. And, forcing myself to focus on the journey might just offer new insights along the way.

I'm starting with a vintage children's book titled "Strange Beasts of the Present," and like my previous art journal, created in a copy of "Strange Beasts of the Past," I have no theme in mind, not idea of what the book might become over time. It's simply a journal, each page standing alone as an isolated event, and (hopefully) at the end those individual pages will have some strange cohesion.























This weekend while tinkering with my Rastatt book, I spent several hours preparing Strange Beasts for future collages, which basically entails making it "not new." Even old, worn-out books seem a bit intimidating and overwhelming with their "blank" pages. It's the same reason I have a rather substantial stash of blank writing journals: Once you start, you're committed, but where to start?

With all of my altered books, I start by ripping out pages. As these tend to get a bit chunky with all the added layers of papers, fibers, embellishments and found objects, I proactively make room for all the junk to come. I tear out about a third of the pages, then turn around and glue some new ones into the spine.




















These tip-ins come from my stash of strange and unusual book pages, large images torn from books and magazines and drawings from my sketch book. During this session, I added several full-page color illustrations from other children's books, a few personal sketches and several pages from an antique book from Germany. The book itself wasn't salvageable as it had considerable water damage and a thoroughly decimated spine, but it had the most beautiful end papers and a lovely aged full-page inscription in German cursive.

























The process isn't linear ... I tear out a few pages, glue in a few new ones, shred the discarded pages and glue the bits and pieces to the remaining pages. Along the way I grab the ink and paint to add color and texture. I primarily use Tim Holtz Distress Ink Reinkers, but frequently turn to acrylic paint and texturizer, watercolor paint, bingo dabbers, gel ink and chalk to create the depth and layers.




















One of my favorite techniques is creating ink blots on facing pages. I wet down the right hand page using a big paint brush, add drops of distress ink in random patterns, then smash the book shut. I let the pages sit for five minutes or so before opening the book to let the pages dry. I'm always mesmerized by the results ... and if it doesn't turn out quite right, I add more water, more ink and smash the book shut again.

I'll keep posting my progress as the book unfolds ...

Even More Strange Beasts


A few more pages from my Strange Beasts art journal. Above, a two-page spread featuring a tip-in from National Geographic, an antique map and tons of rub-on embellishments. I liked this image so much I turned it into a printable transparency to use on Artist Trading Cards. Feel free to do the same ... just click for the full size image.

Below, a response to an art journal challenge. We were asked to interpret the word stop in visual form. I hadn't intended to create such a text-heavy assemblage, but that's where my mind went ... to the lyrics of a favorite song. I incorporated tape labels from a vintage label maker, collaged words and dimensional gel pen, along with the usual paper dyes and grungy distress inks.


Strange (Geometric) Beasts

AVOCADO, Paper Collage © Chandra Orr/Junkmill

I have a strange fascination with squares and grids. Visually, they represent perfect order. In collage, though, they present the opportunity for perfect chaos. I see each square as a little window, a tiny vignette, a miniature blank space waiting to be filled with treasure, like the individual compartments in a curio shelf. I seem to work with the square motif most often when I've been away from my glues and inks for awhile. It's an easy portal back to the pages, a quick way to get my fingers used to the textures of the papers and the manipulating of tools and elements. It's a no-brainer. Perhaps that's why I'm always pleased with the results: Not much room for error.

GEOMETRIC, Paper collage © Chandra Orr/Junkmill

For Avocado and Geometric, I simply punched squares from decorative papers, old book pages and old magazines using a scrapbooker's handheld die-cutting punch. Avocado features 1-inch squares, while Geometric incorporates much smaller squares. I then assembled the squares in a nearly random fashion, just grab one, glue it down in the most reasonable location and move on. The key to the success of this quick exercise, I think, is not over thinking it.

WOVEN, Ink and paper © Chandra Orr/Junkmill

The paper weaving came of my desire to bend and morph squares in the fashion of an optical illusion. I used bingo dabbers to color both sides of each page (2 pages total), then cut wavy strips in opposite directions on each page and wove them together. I think I recall doing something similar in grade school art class. At any rate, I like the colors and way the text is slightly misaligned from square to square.

All three collages come from my Strange Beasts art journal.

Rusty Tangerine

NATURE STUDY, Mixed media collage © Chandra Orr/Junkmill

I just adore orange. It creates such a dynamic contrast to just about any color, not to mention some of my favorite things happen to be orange: macaroni-and-cheese, Fiskars scissors, iguana legs in the summer, that orange juice flavored bubblegum that comes in tiny milk containers from Florida gift shops. With spring rushing in, my eye keeps gravitating to all things orange, so I thought I'd share a few deliciously saturated rusty tangerine collages, created in my Strange Beasts altered art journal.

All of these save the Frog Prince were studies completed while teaching art at the Midland Center for the Arts in Midland, Mich., and incorporate colored pencil illustrations, watercolor paintings, a variety of inks and paper dyes, rubber stamps and layers upon layers of paper and glue.

FROG PRINCE, Mixed media collage © Chandra Orr/Junkmill
GEOMETRIC STUDY, Mixed media collage © Chandra Orr/Junkmill
HOUSE FLY, Mixed media collage © Chandra Orr/Junkmill

Big Bang Theory

Mixed media collage. ©Chandra Orr/Junkmill

More from the Strange Beasts art journal. Inspiration came from the tiny text, which reads, "In 2036, a Rose Bowl-size asteroid is on track to slam into Earth at 66,000 feet per second, setting off tsunamis, coating the planet in fire, ending civilization." 

Though clipped from a magazine, I'm not entirely certain that this is true, but it certainly puts my mind at ease when I have a neurotic moment over not cleaning the kitchen ... or not becoming a mega-famous, Nobel Prize-winning rock star philanthropist. 

Fun fact: One-half of 1% of the white noise you hear between radio channels is the sound of the Big Bang.

Bats in the Belfry

Mixed media collage. ©Chandra Orr/Junkmill

It's here ... the haunting season ... and undoubtedly one of my favorite times of the year. The curbside pumpkin stands are sprouting up, the apple orchard down the road has carved out its corn maze and the leaves are ever-so-slightly hinting at their fall colors. It's the perfect time to share this moody melange from my Strange Beasts art journal.

Strange Beasts

Mixed media collage. ©Chandra Orr/Junkmill

I've always adored the Tower of Pisa. Something about all those layered arches speaks to my fondness for visual repitition ... it looks like a decadent and delicious birthday cake. Above, a mixed media collage paying homage to steampunky perfectionism, created in my Strange Beasts art journal.

The journal, created in a copy of All About Strange Beasts of the Past (1956), is a project several years in the works. 

I started this book while teaching an art journaling course at Delta Community College and continue adding to the pages as inspiration strikes.

I chose the book for the illustrations, delightfully nostalgic two-tone black and white drawings with sepia accents depicting otherworldly creatures from the Pleistocene period, including mammoths, mastodons, giant rhinos and glyptodons (my personal favorite, a prehistoric ancestor of modern armadillos).

The title of the book was also alluring, and I think it says something about the subject matter ... and maybe the artist?