Collage in progress: the little prince
You know about The Little Prince, right? (Not that one. This one.)
Credit: Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (U.S. public domain, copyrighted in France until 2045)
I'm working on a collage homage to the little prince, so to speak. This summer, I noticed NASA celebrated the 45th anniversary of the first moon landing by uploading photos from all the missions to Flickr. I'm now remixing a few of those images with my family photos, on watercolor paper.
The book's watercolor illustrations pulled me into that other universe so long ago I don't even remember the first time I saw them. But even as a kid, I understood the themes of alienation and connection perfectly. Not that I could have told you this back then, but I knew alienation isn't just loneliness, or even being alone by choice.
Museum of the Little Prince, Hakone, Japan. Credit: arieM1FLERéunion/ Wikimedia Commons
It's also about the parallel experience of not quite living in the same reality as the person next to you. Even when the other person is your friend, that connection is always tenuous and changing. You might remember I also explored those ideas in my most recently completed piece. So as I continue to work on the Great Mystery Project, I find that head space melancholy but also full of potential and anticipation. More to come.
(And if you haven't read The Little Prince, what are you waiting for? It's less than 100 pages. I know -- I've read it in both French and English.)
New art: "Was It Something I Said?"
Hey, I'm back! And I brought some new artwork with me.
This collage put me through the emotional wringer, even though the concept came fairly quickly. Remember the inspiration for this collage?
Looking at this picture is like trying to watch three TV screens at once. Remembering that moment, I'm pretty sure my mom was just chilly and impatient to get back into the warm car. But now I also see uncertainty in her face.
She grew up surrounded by other African Americans in the (segregated) South. You could tell because when she said the letter R, it had two syllables.
I grew up in a southern California neighborhood that had only three other black families. All of them lived on the other side of the street -- the side without a view of the city. (I later learned this was a discriminatory realtor trick my mom recognized, and she insisted on the view.)
When I moved to Seattle, my accent didn't set me apart, but I did feel an isolation similar to hers. It's called "the Seattle Freeze," and I couldn't find a way into a social circle until another California transplant made it her mission to bring me in from the cold.
My friend reassured me I wasn't coming on too strong when trying to meet new people. It was just... Seattle. That's why I titled this piece "Was It Something I Said?"
This collage is for those who've faced a frosty group and struggled to find a place for themselves.