[-writing, exercise-]

Writing takes activity. You have to write the words down on the page. Everyone knows that. But what’s going on inside as you make that effort to put a story together? Think about the issue of control and how it does or doesn’t work for you. We tend to think of energy, activity, the doing part of it as the most important. But consider another viewpoint. Here’s what Brenda Ueland says about it:

Willing is doing something you know already, something you have been told by somebody else; there is no new imaginative understanding in it. And presently your soul gets frightfully sterile and dry because you are so quick, snappy and efficient about doing one thing after another that you have not time for your own ideas to come in and develop and gently shine.

In this spirit, here’s a daydreaming exercise to foster the idea of letting go so that you can dream something up rather than just jotting something down.

Sit in front of your computer. Look at the keyboard for a few moments. Put your fingers on the keys and type a sentence. Type ANYTHING.
For example:

your thoughts:
• I am typing a sentence.
• This is a stupid exercise.
• I hate this.
• What am I doing this for?

whatever comes into your head, no matter how weird:

• Dogs with feathers would create nests in their sleep.
• Wallpaper hides cracks and peels when it’s old.
• My teeth might crumble before I die.

the most random nonsense you can come up with:
• Jumbled crossover blinks always allay floods.
• Accessing liverwurst can be the answer to pink socks.
• Everyone jousts because the ghostly phone didn’t ring.

Now here’s the hard part. As soon as you’ve put the period on your sentence, delete it.

As fast as you can, type something else.

Delete that.

Keep doing it for at least ten minutes, more if you can tolerate it.

Now begin your writing for the day.

This exercise does three important things:

1. It loosens your mind by making flighty associations and spurring imaginative juxtapositions on the page
2. It clears the mind of the top layer of dry, tired dirt so that the underlying fertile soil is available to you
3. It provides practice in letting go of words.
   This is a valuable lesson for a writer because we all tend to love what comes out of us. Our words are our babies and we don’t like to make them disappear once they are on the paper. But we have to know how as well as when to delete. This will help.

[-essay-]

by Nancy S.M. Waldman

I have a close friend who has compared herself unfavorably to me in terms of creativity ever since we were girls. According to her, I’m creative and she isn’t.

But I never bought it.

She’s a elementary school teacher and I’ve seen the way she tackles a challenging situation in her classroom. She goes at that challenge with a buoyancy, inspiration and mental ingenuity that can only be described as creative.

Human beings are, by nature, creative. But there’s an odd dichotomy in evidence that people who are inclined toward the arts are labelled “creative” and those who aren’t are said—often by themselves—to be “non-creative.” This harmful labelling ignores other kinds of creativity.

My friend’s is a practical kind of creativity.

On the other hand, there are throngs of people who are clearly creative in the realm of the arts who have trouble getting started, staying on track, producing, finishing, keeping their confidence up. And, having been one of these people from time-to-time in my life, I can tell you that it’s not a situation that can easily be ignored. This kind of non-productive creativity is frustrating and painful.

I think of it as being impractically creative.

The Practically Creative Quarter is a zine for both ends of this extreme, as well as for those who are in the middle. Here, we explore ways in which the practical and the creative within each of us can learn to co-exist in peace and flourish in whichever direction we need to go.

If you are a compulsive type who can be creative but is overly focussed on the end product, delve into our process articles and see if you can’t experience the mind-healing, freeing flow of simply being involved in a creative experience that has no intended product.

If you are one of those people who starts many things but finishes nothing, take in some of our more practical tips and graphic reminders to discipline yourself to focus a little more on the outcome.

If you are like my friend (used to be) but you desperately want more hands-on kinds of creativity in your life, try some of our tutorials. Being creative is about taking the steps to learn how, to allow yourself to be a beginner, and not to get discouraged if one kind of creativity doesn’t turn out to be ‘your thing.’

And everyone needs an occasional dose of inspiration, creative cross-pollination or a light-hearted reminder about not expecting perfection.

Being Practically Creative isn’t about what you create. It’s about harnessing a creativity that works for you. Whether your kind of creativity needs more focus on practical discipline -or- on having a freer flow of creativity, you are capable of unifying these two aspects of yourself. The more fully we can integrate the practical and the creative parts within us, the less likely we are to be that other kind of practically (meaning: all but, nearly, almost) creative!

Make peace between the practical and the creative within yourself and enjoy the experience as well as the results.

[-writing, technique-]

by Nancy Waldman

“…the successful use of metaphor is a matter of perceiving similarities.” ~ Poetics, Aristotle

Metaphors are magic. The right metaphor in the right place transforms a felt hat into a black rabbit, a silk scarf into a flower, solid reality into illusion. In magic, however, tricks can be spoiled if the magician allows the viewer to see the slight of hand being used.

The metaphor needs skillful handling if your reader isn’t going to notice you pulling it from your sleeve.

Metaphor is a type of analogy, a figure of speech, but it is also a common way of thinking that starts early in life; our brains, it seems, are made to use symbols of one thing standing in as another. Perhaps it arises out of human beings need to communicate even before vocabulary has sufficiently developed. For instance, a young toddler might say I want that “sock for my hand” to mean “mitten” if that word isn’t yet in her vocabulary.

As well, metaphors are commonly used to express what otherwise feels inexpressible—love, spirituality, passion, any strong emotion. In response to a tragedy people often use metaphors of hell, nightmares, storms, war (assuming the tragedy isn’t a war). When they are uplifted from the tragedy by kindness or compassion they speak of wombs, bridges, home, cradles. It is a natural way of thinking and expressing what “normal” speech doesn’t adequately cover.

Language is figurative because our brains have the capacity, the tendency, to make disparate connections. Using metaphor in creative writing is an essential part of communicating in a way that is specific, unique. A well-placed metaphor can layer levels of meaning, can bring characters to life, can resonate with the reader so fully that they never forget the connection you’ve made for them.

In the simplest form, metaphors state that one thing is another, as in Shakespeare’s, All the world’s a stage or Juliet is the sun.

Similes are often confused with metaphors. The difference is that in a simile we say that something is like something else whereas in a metaphor that thing IS something else. Here are two sentences that use figures of speech based on birds. Can you tell which is the metaphor and which is the simile?

Carl strutted around the room like a peacock.
Carl preened his feathers.
In the first—a simile—he is like a bird, in the second—a metaphor—he becomes the bird.

There are many examples that are said to be “dead metaphors” in terms of creative writing because they are so common that we don’t even notice them as being metaphorical. They are the magic equivalent of taking a coin from behind someone’s ear. We’ve all seen it; it’s no longer interesting and certainly not magical.

Everyday items:

the leg of the chair, the cradle of his arms, being on time is the default setting

Emotional expressions:

I hit the roof! I saw red. I fell in love.

Nature:

mother earth, the storm’s rage, the caress of the sun

It is instructive however, to look at these everyday metaphors because they show that metaphors do not have to follow the A is B formula. Metaphorical connections can be made not only with nouns but also with verbs, adverbs, adjectives and even prepositions. Also, the metaphor can be as simple as expressing a single similarity or as complex as the overarching concept that provides the direction and philosophy of an entire piece of writing.

Often the most effective metaphors are those in which the two things being compared are dissimilar in most respects. The skill comes from finding that one attribute that is so similar, that—as a writer—you can say: this is that, and mean it. The writer must not only believe it, but also be relatively certain that the reader will be able to pinpoint that one aspect of the two things are perfectly attuned. Just as a magician must set the audience up for an illusion, the writer must prepare an illusion so the reader naturally understands and believes.

If I say that Carl is a peanut butter cookie, I’d better have let the reader know ahead of time or soon, what characteristic of Carl I’m referring to. Crusty around the edges? Full of delicious goodness? Chunky? Or perhaps, having fork marks on his face? Your reader needs to know what you mean or your metaphor won’t serve your story.

If I say that “Carl swam through the room.” the reader might think “swimmer “or he might think “fish.” If you want to have the reader think “fish” you need to make it more specific and since there are all kinds of fish, why not make it very specific?

“Grey and sleek, Carl sliced through all the smaller fish in the room, beady eyes locked onto his prey.”—we are pretty darned sure that he’s a shark and he’s about to attack (probably a metaphorical attack). “Shark” has many associations. The writer needs to make certain that those won’t conflict with other things we know about Carl.

In this instance, “Carl darted in and out of the corners of the room, camouflaging himself behind the bright anemones and starfish.”—we get a very different picture of this character.

Remember, you are carefully, skillfully teasing out the similar in the dissimilar. Your metaphor must match what you are most trying to illustrate in that character, situation, or theme.

Bringing vividness to your writing is one of the greatest benefits of using effective metaphors. Suppose you’re telling a story about a man who has had a tense, terrible day and has an increasing number of reasons to believe that he might be in danger. The suspense has built to a high pitch. He’s trying to calm himself down but suddenly, as he’s preparing his supper in what he presumes to be an otherwise empty house, someone taps him on the shoulder.

You could say, “Carl jumped in the air.” This may be literal, but it’s dull and doesn’t express the depth of shock and fear that you want Carl to be feeling.

You could say, “Carl jumped out of his skin,” but that’s a cliched metaphor. Everyone will know what you mean, but it’s overused; it has no power.

How about using a fresh metaphor and one that matches the scene?
“Carl was a drop of water splashed on a hot skillet.”

In this, we see Carl jump, rather than being told about it. This is one of the wonderful aspects of using metaphors creatively. With few words, you can show the character, or the action. Your material comes alive.

What’s happening with the following two sentences?

“Carl wanted her to notice him, so he stealthily entered into the conversation and said exactly what he needed to in order to get her attention.”

“Carl waded into the conversation without creating a ripple. His opening line, cast gently and precisely, hooked her immediately.”

We get basically the same information, but the second has much more interest. We see Carl being stealthy, patient and skillful and the fisherman metaphor brings with it many other rich associations.

But would this metaphor work in any material? No, no, no. The metaphor has to resonate with the character, the setting, the tone of the writing. Otherwise, the reader becomes aware that you’re trying to create illusion instead of seeing—and believing—the illusion.

If Carl were a Wall Street workaholic who didn’t go outside except to go from office to car to home and back again, the fisherman metaphor would fail miserably. On the other hand, Carl doesn’t have to be a fisherman for this to work; in fact, it would likely be too strong a metaphor if he were because, in that context, the metaphor might not be fresh or unexpected. However, if Carl were on his first visit to a Caribbean island or perhaps had a summer job working in a boatyard, then this metaphor might not only fit the work and the character but extend his evolution by showing that he’d absorbed some of the setting he found himself in.

This brings us to the mixed metaphor. It’s the clumsiest trick of all with sometimes comical results. A mixed metaphor is sawing a rabbit in half or pulling a top hat from a silk scarf. It’s one that combines two or more totally different metaphors in close proximity.

“Carl held his cards close to his vest, but he couldn’t keep from wearing his heart on his sleeve.”

For one thing, those are cliched metaphors but more importantly, they are going off in two different directions. They may both be true of this character, but you need to find a one metaphor that can express both things.

“Carl held his cards close to his chest, but he still had an ace up his sleeve.”

This is equally cliche, but at least the metaphor is all about card playing.

Perfect metaphors will, from time-to-blessed-time, arise naturally out of the writing process. Our minds will effortlessly make the connection that resonates the most effectively. But—to say the least—that doesn’t always happen. During the editing process it is possible to analyze any writing that hasn’t come alive, that is more telling than showing, that seems less emotionally true than it needs to be, and look for metaphorical language that will enrich it.

This doesn’t mean that creative writing needs metaphors in every paragraph or even on each page. Every magician’s act prepares and distracts us from the tricks themselves. Moderation is the key.* Don’t force a metaphor and if in doubt, leave it out. That way when the well-placed metaphor appears as if out of nowhere, your audience will gasp.

Metaphor is a powerful reinforcement of the flexibility of language and the interconnectivity of that language within our brains. Our minds enjoy playing with the possibilities of turning the literal, abstract—the familiar, strange—the superficial, deep—the real, magical.

Metaphors do the trick.

*did you pick up on the dead metaphor? probably not. that’s why they’re referred to as “dead.”

© 2007 Nancy S.M. Waldman all rights reserved

This article barely scratches the surface of a rich vein of metaphorical information. Keep digging!
Here’s a place to start: changingminds.org/techniques/language/metaphor/

The PCQ’s MetAphorism feature use metaphors to bring out lessons in creativity:
The Desktop Shortcut
The Road Map
Burma-Shave signs
The Costume Box

Example of the use of an overarching metaphor to make a point (over and over and over again ): Growing Inspiration.

[-photo essay, fiber art-]

by Nancy S.M. Waldman

Patchwork quilting is an exacting process. There is a great deal of planning, measuring, precise cutting and piecing. Some of us are cut out (ahem, *sorry!*) for that and some aren’t. Or perhaps it’s a discipline that we enjoy at some times and not others.

At times we may just want to be spontaneous, playful and get quick results create with our textiles.

Here are some examples of a kind of stitchery that requires none of the planning and precision of quilting, but that can give stunning results.

There is no one name that sums up this kind of work. It includes raw edge collage, surface stitching, whole cloth manipulation and fabric weaving. The idea is to make a new textile by combining more than one kind of fabric by layering the elements and using surface stitching rather than hidden seams to make them one.

Here is an example of a simple and quick project. It is a placemat made from three fabrics woven together and surface stitched until it becomes one. Below, you see the base fabric cut into wavy strips.

A strip of fabric was left uncut at one end. This edge was basted onto a piece of interfacing the size of the finished mat.

The two alternating fabrics were also cut into wavy strips.

These were then woven into the base fabric. Don’t worry if all the corners don’t meet exactly. You can remedy that with your overstitching. Pin or lightly hand-basted the strips to the interface backing to keep everything in place while it is being stitched.

This one is top-stitched in a wavy, random pattern in both contrasting and matching thread colours. In order to add durability to a project that will have to stand up to fairly frequent laundering, there are vertical strips of zig-zag stitches in various colours.

Once the stitching is finished, it’s backed and the edges finished and in a afternoon’s work, you have a lovely new placemat for your (or someone else’s) table.

This kind of weaving can be done with straight edges for a more traditionally patchwork look.

Decide beforehand what kind of surface stitching best matches the fabrics and results you want. They can be contrasting colours or ones that blend in, or both. They can be random or follow a deliberate pattern. The patterns can be angular, squared-off or wavy. Use plain or decorative, zig-zag or straight, single or double stitching.

This table cover was also made using this technique —but taken to extremes. The fabrics are swatches from decorating sample books. They were cut into random slits, woven in random directions, over-stitched and sometimes re-cut into strips and re-woven. The table base that this was designed to cover has curved sides and front and this technique worked beautifully to be able to mold it to the precise shape needed.

This is rather old and has been washed several times. The fraying, raw edges are more pronounced, but the whole piece is quite sturdy.

Another fun alternative is to cut slits in the middle of a piece of cloth, weave other fabrics into it and over stitch the whole thing. Here’s a more delicate “shabby chic” pillow top that uses this technique. This pillow was one I had purchased years ago. The front was made from old linen and lace. The linen fell to pieces a while back, but the lace and structure of the pillow was intact. To refurbish it, I cut slits in the white lining and wove in strips from old handkerchiefs. These were then top stitched extensively.

In addition to the weaving, other bits of fabric can be appliqued to the surface design. As long as your raw edges are securely stitched, it will hold up well.

This small lap quilt I made for my niece, emily, shows this technique as well as the interspersed woven sections. I divided the whole cloth of the floral background fabric into thirteen squares (3 rows of 3, 2 rows of 2). Strips were cut into those areas and then interwoven with other floral fabrics and top stitched to secure all fabrics. Appliques of additional fabrics were also added and surface stitched.

Raw edge collage is also wonderful for representation or impressionist fiber art as well. Here is one from fiber artist, Suze Corte. It’s titled, Coming Apart at the Seams and uses vintage quilt scraps, fabric, buttons, lace, threads and a shard from a china dish—all with raw edge technique.

© 93-07 suze corte, all rights reserved

Stayed tuned! We’re going to be showing you more of this kind of fabric collage work in the months to come.

For more instruction in all these techniques, you might be interested in
On the Surface, by Wendy Hill.

[-art, process, tutorial-]

by Nancy S.M. Waldman

Time:
• 10 minutes or less

Materials:
two standard sheets of printing paper torn in fourths
marker, crayon, pen or pencil

Before reading this article, do one drawing each for 8 of the following words. I’ve given you more than 8 in case you prefer not to deal with some of them but, of course, do them all if you like. The drawings must not be representational. No pictures or symbols that represent anything. Stick to abstract lines and shapes of any thickness or type. Think about the word for only a moment and then begin to draw. Make them small, make them quick and don’t think too much.

peace/tranquility
anger
nervous energy
joyful energy
hope
depression
illness
fear
loneliness
femininity
masculinity

Done?
Now here’s another thing for you to do. Take a moment to decide which one of the two shapes seen below should be named “takete” and which one should be “maluma.”

I’ll explain what these shapes represent at the end of the article.

Words dominate our worlds, and even more importantly, our thoughts. We can’t even think about thoughts without using words. This dominance of the word is one reason art, craft, pure design and music are so vital in our lives. We need the balance that wordlessness can provide. Marks—the kind that you used to do your drawings—communicate on a non-verbal level.

This little exercise is meant to increase your awareness and give you the experience of the fact that non-representational marks carry meaning that can be *read* by others.

Below is a series of drawings that roughly correspond to the ones you did. Scroll down and look at each one. Notice the energy or lack of it, the placement, direction and movement of the lines. Think about how it makes you feel or what it reminds you of. Look for similarities between your drawings and mine. Then scroll back through them and try to match them up with the list of words (some of them are used twice).

peace/tranquility, anger, nervous energy, joyful energy, hope, depression, illness, fear, loneliness, femininity, masculinity

Here they are with labels (on top):

anger	loneliness
fear	anger
tranquility	depression
nervous energy	femininity
illness	hope
joyful energy	masculinity

The interesting thing about these simple drawings is that they tend to be so similar between people. Betty Edwards in Drawing on the Artist Within shows many examples of these drawings done in her art classes. They are not all the same—we wouldn’t expect or want that, would we? And, that’s not the point. The point is that they are amazingly communicative.

You might disagree with some of my labels—maybe what I call hope looks more like femininity to you (I was interested that my joyful energy and femininity looked so similar ), or my nervous energy might look like your anger. Come to think of it, my loneliness looks pretty fearful. I trust, though, that you can look at these and at least narrow the choice down to two or three. Sometimes we don’t communicate that explicitly when we’re using words!

If I did these drawings on another day, they would likely be different. If I were feeling especially lonely or fearful or angry, the marks would be even more communicative of that feeling. The fact that my loneliness drawing incorporates a feeling of fear is interesting to me. I probably am fearful of being lonely. That it came out in a drawing that took less than thirty seconds illustrates my point in a way that my words cannot.

I’ll be posting more about what you can do with simple non-representational drawings, but in the meantime, I suggest that you play with lines, marks and the expression of emotions.

In terms of other art that you do, remember these tiny drawings. Placement on the page, the energy and speed with which lines are drawn, the direction of the lines, whether they are straight, sharp, angular, wavy, curvy, upturned—all of these things and more carry information to your viewer. Whether you work in paint or clay, fabric or pencil, make sure that you know what non-verbal message your art is delivering. Harness this information so that you can use it in your work and in viewing other people’s art.

Most of my understanding of R-mind thinking, the meaning of marks and much of the rest of what I’ve come to understand about creativity was informed by the books of Betty Edwards, Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain and Drawing on the Artist Within. I consider them essential so do consider looking more closely at them when you get the chance. (I’ll be posting a full review of Drawing on the Artist Within soon.)

So what about takete and maluma, the drawings at the beginning of this article? These nonsense words and two similar drawings were used in an experiment done by Gestalt psychologist, Wolfgang Kohler in 1929. 98% of respondents labelled the angular drawing “takete” and the curved one, maluma. This was strikingly similar across cultures. We can project why this is so (the letters of takete are more angular, the sound is sharper and so on) but it continues to be a fascination that there is this kind of brain universality associated with abstract shapes and sounds when so much of what human beings have trouble with is communication. According to Wikipedia it is known as the Bouba/Kiki Effect

Other posts about Marks:
Mark my Words - a graphic reminder
Making your Mark - essay about self-promotion

[-alteration, crafts, how-to-]

by Nancy Waldman

Here’s a fun little project that grew out of The PCQ’s Alteration Challenge.

It took less than a half an hour to put together. If you have your own tin (they are easy to find at garage sales or online auctions) you can make one of these for well under $10. The ‘clockworks’ can be found at hobby stores.

Just take your drill - you do have one, don’t you? - checking the package to find out what size drill bit you need to use - and drill a hole. Insert the metal piece inside the hole and attach the battery pack to it from the backside of the tin’s lid. From the front and still using the simple directions on the clock works package, put on the spacers and the hands of the clock.

From there you just put in a battery and watch (pun intended 8)) it go!

I used a Sharpie permanent marker to draw in the numbers but you can find press on numbers that would serve the purpose.

I wanted this one to be a counter clock since the word “soap” was written on side; I can even use for storing - yes, that’s it - soap. But the same clockworks can be used to make a hanging clock.

Here’s another idea. This is a photo of a clock I bought. It’s made from a metal tin that is open on the back side. The face of the clock is a piece of paper glued to the front. This brings up endless possibilities. Find a great picture and paste it on or better yet, do a collage. Fabric could also be used. Just be sure that your clockworks are high enough to lift the hands away from the face of the clock, especially if your collage gets a bit thick. They do come in several heights so this shouldn’t be a problem.

Easy. Quick. Fun. Functional. And, what great gifts they would make.

Originally published in the April 2006 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: alterations; edited slightly for republication

[-photography, how-to, art-]

Words and Images by Angela Petsis

Polaroid Transfers are a fun and creative way to elevate your photography to a whole new level. The most important thing to remember when starting out in the world of transfers is to have patience, and be open to experimenting with different transfer methods because what works for one person will not necessarily work for another.

antique store still-life © 06 - 07 all rights reserved angela petsis

Angela says,

This image was taken on a sunny afternoon in St. Augustine Florida. This is a great example of an image I felt would benefit from extra alterations after it was dry. The colors were added using colored pencils, but you could use any type of paints, crayons, even markers – the sky is the limit! Make sure to wait at least 24 hours before making changes because transfers are very delicate when wet.

To begin, a Polaroid transfer is made using specific Polaroid films. These films are instant color film; when you take a picture using this film you wait about 60 seconds, and you get a color picture that’s ready to go into a photo album or scrapbook. The beauty of the Polaroid’s ER line of pack films is that if you disrupt the development process at just the right time –and your photograph can become a whole other work of art. The two most common and least expensive of these ER films are type 669 and 690. They are 3.25 x 4.25 inches. There are larger formats, however these require more elaborate equipment and money.

polaroid daylab copy system

In order to create a Polaroid transfer you must first have a method of exposing the film. You can do this several different ways, the most popular being either a slide printer or a Polaroid Daylab Copy system. The slide printer takes 35mm slides and prints them directly onto the Polaroid film – the great thing about the printer is that everything is handled neatly without a darkroom, and you need very little space to work. When I used a slide printer I worked right off of my kitchen counter. The Copycat system (see photo) uses 4×6 prints instead of slides. So you can take your digital pictures or film, print them out, and copy them right on to Polaroid film for a transfer!

Once you have a method for printing your photographs onto Polaroid pack film, you are ready to start making transfers. Your work area needs to be flat, and accessible to electrical outlets (working in a kitchen or bathroom is probably easiest, so you can have access to hot water as well).

You will need at least two 8×10 photographic trays, a receptor (such as paper) to place your transfer on, tongs, and a drying rack.

Transfers are made by interrupting the development process of the film; instead of waiting 60 seconds to have a fully developed print, you will pull apart your film after 10-15 seconds and throw away the actual print.

By disrupting the development processes, all of the dyes have not had a chance to move over to the print itself – much of the dyes have remained behind on the negative. It is the negative piece that will be placed on top of a new receptor to create a transfer. Experiment with different materials – the most common receptor sheet is hot or cold pressed watercolor paper; but you could also use silk, handmade paper, even papyrus – the choices are endless.

I like to dampen my watercolor paper with hot water before placing the negative on top. This technique is the wet or heat transfer method.

Some people will use a hot plate or blow dryer once the negative is in contact with the receptor sheet, to help the dyes migrate to the paper properly. I like to gently roll my image with a brayer to help insure that the image will be evenly transferred. Leave your negative to develop for about 60 seconds.

This is the time you could place it in a tray of hot water, or on a hot plate, but you can also let it sit until you are ready to peel off the negative. I like to peel my negative off the receptor under warm water as it seems to prevent any of my image from lifting off and helps to avoid any damage to the image.

Once your transfer is complete, let it sit in a tray of gently running water for several minutes, and place on a drying rack in a safe place until completely dry. Never stack your images or place anything on top of them while they are still wet, or they will be damaged.

Once they are completely dry you can use watercolor paints or colored pencils to enhance the look of your image, or use them just as they are. They look wonderful framed or in a scrapbook. Have fun and enjoy!

More Information: Polaroid.com
Essential book:
Polaroid Transfers: A Complete Visual Guide to Creating Image and Emulsion Transfers by Kathleen Thormod Carr

Supplies:
Daylab - a Polaroid company that produces everything for image transfers; the slide printers, copy systems, film - daylab.com

B&H Photo (has the best prices) - bhphotovideo.com
Freestyle Photographic Supplies (Excellent source for those readers on the USA West Coast)- freestylephoto.biz

Dick Blick – they have the best art supplies at the best prices (the only place I use for buying different kinds of papers/receptors) - dickblick.com

Definitely search for supplies on line auctions as well. A slide printer or copy machine (the basic models) is going to cost about $200 new. You can get them off of Ebay for half that price, and every week there are at least 5-6 listed.

all words and images by Angela Petsis - © 2006 - 2007 all rights reserved

See more of Angela’s Polaroid transfer artistry here.
Angela wrote this and took the images for The PCQ. Thanks so much, Angela! We appreciate the great tutorial!

About the author/artist:
Angela is an artist/photographer who has recently relocated from Florida to Washington state. Please feel free to direct your Polaroid transfer questions to Angela at venusthemuseatyahoo.com. Her beautiful new website: angelapetsis.com

Originally published in the April 2006 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: alterations

[-poetry, how-to-]

by Nancy Waldman

detail, Genji Scroll, Goto Museum, Tokyo, Japan

I recently returned from a Writing Retreat planned and presented by the members of my local writing group. One of our participants, Krista MacKeigan taught a wonderful workshop on poetry and inspired me to try some found poetry.

I chose the words for my poem from The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon, translated by Ivan Morris.

The process is, on the surface, simple.

Find a piece of prose and turn it into a poem. Use every word as it is found in the original. Krista suggested first trying non-fiction rather than novels or short stories. Newspapers, she found, were generally lacking in enough figurative language to make it interesting.

My suggestion is to choose a piece of non-fiction prose not for its subject, but instead for the language and imagery. Find words that interest you about a subject that you wouldn’t ordinarily write about.

Remember it is ‘found’ art, so don’t agonize over this part of the process. Play with it. Choose *lightly* and see what develops. In that way, you can be surprised by the results.

I found that this kind of exercise was instructive in the areas of line breaks and overall pacing of the poem. Because I was using “ready-made” words it took away that pressure of choosing the right ones and allowed me to focus on other parts of the process. This is very much like learning about composition by using magazine scraps for collage or even painting by numbers or tracing which –while perhaps not an artistic goal–can be instructive about how artists achieve certain effects.

Once you have done several, choose one to take a little farther by rearranging, removing and adding words. You can also experiment with doing a Parallel Poem.

Parallel Poems are derivations of existing poems rather than prose. The result is a poem very like another the original but using slightly different words, images or subject matter. See below for links to some examples of parallel poems. Use can one of your found poems, or take a poem you admire and make it your own while always, of course, giving credit to the original poet for his or her work.

Other online links:

- Parallel Poetry Workshop
- Found Parallel Poems
- an online word rearranger
- See another PCQ Found Poetry article
- Our Poetry links

about The Pillow Book:

Sei Shonagon was born in approximately 965 and served as lady-in-waiting at the Court of the Japanese Empress during the last decade of the tenth century. The Pillow Book was a kind of diary or journal, though whether only for herself or written for a contemporary or future audience, no one knows.

Here is another Found Poem from the same source:

30. Insects

The bell insect
and the pine cricket
the grasshopper
and the common cricket
the butterfly
and the shrimp insect;
the mayfly
and the firefly.

I feel sorry for
the basket worm.
He was begotten
by a demon,
and his mother,
fearing
that he would
grow up with his
father’s frightening
nature,
abandoned the
unsuspecting child,
having first wrapped him
in a dirty piece of clothing.

“Wait for me,” she said as she left.
“I shall return to you as soon
as the autumn winds blow.” So when
autumn comes
and the wind
starts blowing,
the wretched child hears it
and desperately cries,
“Milk! Milk!”

The clear-toned cicada

The snap beetle also
impresses me.
They say the reason it bows
while crawling on the ground
is that the faith of
Buddha
has sprung up in its
insect heart.
Sometimes one suddenly sees the
snap beetle
tapping away
in a dark place
and this
is rather
pleasant.

The fly
should have been included
on my list of hateful things
for such an odious creature
does not belong with ordinary
insects.
It settles on everything
and even alights
on one’s face
with its clammy
feet.

I am sorry
anyone
should have been named
after it.

The tiger-moth
is very pretty
and delightful.
When one sits
close to a lamp
reading a story,
a tiger moth
will often flutter
prettily
in front of one’s book.

The ant
is an ugly insect;
but it is
light on its feet
and I enjoy watching it
as it skims
quickly
over the surface
of the water.

Originally published in the April 2006 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: alterations; edited for re-publication

[-tutorial, process, art-]

words and creations by Karen Hatzigeorgiou

One of my favorite altered book techniques is to use the text from a hard cover book as the base for developing poetry and related imagery.

When I choose a book to alter, I am most often guided by the title of the book. I pull the book off the shelf and look more closely at a few things. I look to see if the binding is stitched securely and if the pages are heavy enough to stand up to some gluing, painting, stitching or whatever else I might try to do to them.

When I’m ready to start, I scan the first few pages of the book, looking for words and phrases that speak to me of a poem waiting to be found. I discovered these words of gold on page 9: “. . . swam away on another wave of dream. . .” This phrase appeared on the ninth line of text, so I looked above it for a pronoun to start the poem. There was the word “she” on the very first line. Perfect.

From there, I look at each line of text, trying to find ways to connect words and phrases to create my found poem. I search for imagery and word combinations that I like. I write the poem down on paper as I go along, referencing the paragraph and line numbers so that I can find the phrases again later.

Creating found poetry this way is an exciting process for me. Of course, I am relying on the original author’s ability to use descriptive language in his or her writing. A lot of the prose written in the earlier part of the 20th century was very flowery and overdone, compared to much of what is written today. These works are wonderful for found poetry because I can pare down the dense text and create something new, spare, and sometimes beautiful. But just as playing with the text on the page can yield exciting results, it can be the source of frustration as well. Many times I’ve gotten into the rhythm of a poem that seemed to be turning out nicely, only to come to a dead end with no text left on the page to create a satisfying conclusion. Sometimes I can wriggle my way out of it; other times I have to turn the page to make a new start. That’s the beauty and the challenge of creating poetry in an altered book.

When I’m happy with the poem, my next step is to mask the text out so that I can create artwork around the poem without obliterating it; this is one of my favorite altered book techniques. I use liquid Masquepen for this. It’s a little bottle of blue liquid that feels like rubber cement when it dries. It’s rather expensive, but a little bit goes a long way….Once the masque has dried, I create the art for the page.

Here, Karen shares with us the most personal kind of altered book. A tribute to and remembrance of her mother, in a book called, The Gift.

My mother has Alzheimers, and I am watching the woman I knew vanish before my eyes. This altered book is about what that feels like to me. I use a bird’s nest and eggs that she threw away along with images of her as a child and young woman to create one of my Found Object Assemblages :: The Gift.

This found object assemblage was created using a very fat children’s board book that I got at Half Price books for a few bucks. The fact that it was so thick and that it had a window in the lower half of the cover made it perfect for this altered book project.

I went through my usual preparations for altering a board book. I sanded the pages that I knew I would be working on and put down two coats of gesso to cover up the original text and illustrations. I used my monster Exacto to cut down about an inch into the book to make a niche for the nest and eggs. Then I glued that block of pages together. I don’t glue the top page until the very end. That makes it easier for me to work on and to wrap papers around to the back side of it.

The nest and eggs were glued into place after I had completed the cover and finished every other part of the book. The nest and eggs are extremely fragile. I sprayed the nest with matte fixative, hoping to keep it from unraveling, but little flecks of it continue to fall off. I had seven eggs when I started, but broke three while making the book. I suppose that was fate, since four eggs in the nest makes perfect sense–one for each of my mother’s daughters–me and my three sisters.

Check out the Practically Mperfect article that Karen did for The PCQ -
You, Me and Leonardo da Vinci
Other related PCQ articles:
Found Poetry
Other kinds of altered books
Nancy’s first [and perhaps, last ] attempt at making an altered book
Altered photographs:
- Maureen Shaughnessy - thread of winter-quiet
- Baywhale - how to make a photosandwich
- Angela Petsis - Polaroid transfers

about the artist/writer:
Karen Hatzigeorgiou is a wife, mother, seventh grade English teacher, an artist and a writer. You can email her at karen@karenswhimsy.com. Karen has carefully chronicled her altered book process on her webpages, Altered Books Gallery. Her website is karenswhimsy.com.

Do yourself a favor, go there and spend some time with Karen and her creations. Thank you, Karen, for sharing your work with us here.

Originally published by permission of the artist/author in the January 2006 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: alterations

[-tutorial, photography, alterations-]

by Maureen Shaughnessy

I collect images, mostly with my own camera, but also from old manuscripts, ephemera, found objects, cultural flotsam and jetsam. Sometimes I do digital collage, other times I work with paper, paint, drawing tools and glue in 2 dimensions or I make 3-d mixed media sculptures. I work in layers, often more than 20 or 30 layers, as I am trying to create something with visual, symbolic and spiritual depth. The stories of the objects I use are glued into the collage layers. Emotions, connections, poetry, unspoken words, events, songs, dreams and spiritual meaning are embedded in there too. Often the layering will only be apparent on a subtle level. What’s important to me is that I know the layers are underneath somewhere, giving the piece personal depth and intimacy.

When I’m looking at one of my own layered collages or someone else’s, I tend to judge it based on first my emotional response, then on the craftsmanship of the execution and finally based on some intellectual understanding of the piece. Sometimes I want my work to be wild and spontaneous and passionate. Other times I’m aiming for an almost cool control, which in itself can convey an experience or an emotion as effectively as a more passionate piece. It’s hard to say what makes a layered piece “work” for me. It’s intuitive. Can I connect with something the artist was trying to say? Or does it leave me cold? Really, it’s such a personal thing … one viewer may respond to a piece that another person thinks is inferior.

Here’s a little about my altered photograph, “Ghost Root Tapestry.” The main image I used was of the lower trunk of a tree. When I first saw the tree, the roots looked like they were twining together in a Celtic knot shape. I have some background in fiberarts and weaving, and I thought of trying to bring out this aspect of the roots – that they were threaded and knotted together, not only around each other, but around the rocks and pebbles on the lake shore and down into the earth, around the leaves and soil and micro-organisms that live down there. I wanted to make something that looked like a tapestry, like threads and cords and knots, textural and subtle and fine.

I used Photoshop to alter the tree roots photo by blending it with a photo of the frozen lake surface and another, of branches against sky. I choose photos based on their dominant shapes, lines and textures. For example, to create the look of a tapestry, I needed lots of texture, so I chose photos with lots of different line weights and shapes going on. The different textures of these three photos contribute to the feeling of woven cloth. Likewise, if I had been going for a minimalist feeling, I might have chosen only photos with simple shapes and few lines.

After I played around with the colours and blended the three main photos, I rotated multiple copies of the image and blended many layers to make something like a tapestry with the appearance of depth and criss-crossing threads. I like that it’s not perfectly symmetrical … very much like my actual woven tapestries used to turn out.

This series of altered photos is in a set I call “Dead of Winter.” Sometimes I come up with a title for a series that almost contradicts how I really feel about the subject of the series. Yet to me, it fits. I hope the title makes people stop and read it twice, to puzzle out why I might have chosen those words.

In this case, “dead” is the opposite of what I think winter is. Winter is very much alive – it is just sleeping; it is the Earth dreaming, growing secretly underground, holding the light of short winter days in her heart, in her belly, holding it in until everything is ready to leap out again, be born, and come back to the warmth and the air and the green. It is a time for meditation, concentration, inner-focus, silence and dreams and spiritual contemplation. With that in mind, I tried to bring out the subtle, quiet spirit of leafless trees, frozen water, and strong, connected roots. Not all of the photos in this set are altered. In fact, some are just as they came out of my camera. But they all belong together because of the thread of winter-quiet.

All images: © 2005 - 2007 Maureen Shaughnessy all rights reserved | see the entire “Dead of Winter” set on flickr | see more of Maureen’s altered photos on flickr | Maureen’s blog

Other articles in The PCQ by Maureen Shaughnessy:
The Thread of Winter-Quiet: images.
Doodles from Maureen’s sketchbook

about the artist:
Maureen is a: landscape designer . artist . gardener . writer . companion to her soul mate . mom . daughter . sister . friend . independent sort . lover of nature music animals plants beauty sunlight&darkness. Maureen lives in Helena, Montana. She is working on a personal website but is almost too much of a perfectionist to finish. She likes to quote da Vinci, “art is never finished, only abandoned.”

Originally published as cover art on the January 2006 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: alterations