Friday, April 13, 2012

surreal babies?! am i dreaming??

I just ordered this book and can't wait for its arrival!! Anyone who knows me well knows that I have an odd fascination with babies... and that coupled with my burgeoning interest in surrealism has me very much looking forward to learning more about this collection of kooky postcards from the 1920-30's.
^ I think this must have to be my favorite! haha! ^

Here's the description given on
Babies hatch from eggs, bubble from cauldrons, are fished from rivers, emerge in the cabbage patch, sit atop clouds, and ride in zeppelins. They play instruments, drive automobiles, fly in balloons, harvest the fields; an anarchistic world of baby heaven.

The postcards were a source of inspiration to many artists in the 1920s and '30s, in particular to both the Dadaists and the Surrealists. They were collected by Paul Éluard, André Breton, Salvador Dalí, Hannah Höch, Herbert Bayer, and Man Ray. The popular images excited inspiration in these artists because of their boundless inventiveness.

These remind me SO much of this Disney Silly Symphonie film from 1935!!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

hannah höch

I can't be making collages and ignore Hannah Höch's influence. She was one of the first artist's to embrace the "new medium" and her work has had an impact on generations to come. I suppose she's best known for her iconic Dadaist collage Cut with the Kitchen Knife through the Beer-Belly of the Weimar Republic from 1919, but I'm particularly drawn to these...

claus oldenburg says...

I am for an art that is political-erotical-mystical, that does something other than sit on its ass in a museum.
I am for an art that grows up not knowing it is art at all, an art given the chance of having a starting point of zero.
I am for an art that embroils itself with the everyday crap & still comes out on top. 
I am for an art that imitates the human, that is comic, if necessary, or violent, or whatever is necessary.
I am for an art that takes its form from the lines of life itself, that twists and extends and accumulates and spits and drips, and is heavy and coarse and blunt and sweet and stupid as life itself.
I am for an artist who vanishes, turning up in a white cap painting signs or hallways.
I am for art that comes out of a chimney like black hair and scatters in the sky.
I am for art that spills out of an old man's purse when he is bounced off a passing fender. 
I am for the art out of a doggy's mouth, falling five stories from the roof.
I am for the art that a kid licks, after peeling away the wrapper. 
I am for an art that joggles like everyones knees, when the bus traverses an excavation.
I am for art that is smoked, like a cigarette, smells, like a pair of shoes.
I am for art that flaps like a flag, or helps blow noses, like a handkerchief.
I am for art that is put on and taken oft, like pants, which develops holes, like socks, which is eaten, like a piece of pie, or abandoned with great contempt, like a piece of shit.
I am for art covered with bandages.
I am for art that limps and rolls and runs and jumps.
I am for art that comes in a can or washes up on the shore.
I am for art that coils and grunts like a wrestler.
I am for art that sheds hair.
I am for art you can sit on.
I am for art you can pick your nose with or stub your toes on.
I am for art from a pocket, from deep channels of the ear, from the edge of a knife, from the corners of the mouth, stuck in the eye or worn on the wrist.
I am for art under the skirts, and the art of pinching cockroaches.
I am for the art of conversation between the sidewalk and a blind man's metal stick.
I am for the art that grows in a pot, that comes down out of the skies at night, like lightning, that hides in the clouds and growls.
I am for art that is flipped on and off with a switch.
I am for art that unfolds like a map, that you can squeeze, like your sweetys arm, or kiss, like a pet dog, which expands and squeaks, like an accordion, which you can spill your dinner on, like an old tablecloth.
I am for an art that you can hammer with, stitch with, sew with, paste with, file with.
I am for an art that tells you the time of day, or where such and such a street is.
I am for an art that helps old ladies across the street.
I am for the art of the washing machine.
I am for the art of a government check.
I am for the art of last wars raincoat.
I am for the art that comes up in fogs from sewer-holes in winter.
I am for the art that splits when you step on a frozen puddle.
I am for the worms art inside the apple.
I am for the art of sweat that develops between crossed legs.
I am for the art of neck-hair and caked tea-cups, for the art between the tines of restaurant forks, for the odor of boiling dishwater.
I am for the art of sailing on Sundae, and the art of red and white gasoline pumps.
I am for the art of bright blue factory columns and blinking biscuit signs.
I am for the art of cheap plaster and enamel.
I am for the art of worn marble and smashed slate.
I am for the art of rolling cobblestones and sliding sand.
I am for the art of slag and black coal.
I am for the art of dead birds.
I am for the art of scratchings in the asphalt, daubing at the walls.
I am for the art of bending and kicking metal and breaking glass, and pulling at things to make them fall down.
I am for the art of punching and skinned knees and sat-on bananas. 
I am for the art of kids' smells. 
I am for the art of mama-babble.
I am for the art of bar-babble, tooth-picking, beerdrinking, egg-salting, in-salting.
I am for the art of falling off a barstool.
I am for the art of underwear and the art of taxicabs.
I am for the art of ice-cream cones dropped on concrete.
I am for the majestic art of dog-turds, rising like cathedrals.
I am for the blinking arts, lighting up the night.
I am for art falling, splashing, wiggling, jumping, going on and off.
I am for the art of fat truck-tires and black eyes.
I am for Kool-art, 7-UP art, Pepsi-art, Sunshine art, 39 cents art, 15 cents art, Vatronol art, Dro-bomb art, Vam art, Menthol art, 1. & M art, Ex- lax art, Venida art, Heaven Hill art, Pamrvl art, San-o-med art, Rx art, 9.99 art, Now art, New art, How art, Fire sale art, Last Chance art, Only art, Diamond art, Tomorrow art, Franks art, Ducks art, Meat-o-rama art.
I am for the art of bread wet by rain.
I am for the rat's dance between floors.
I am for the art of flies walking on a slick pear in the electric light.
I am for the art of soggy onions and firm green shoots.
I am for the art of clicking among the nuts when the roaches come and go.
I am for the brown sad art of rotting apples.
I am for the art of meowls and clatter of cats and for the art of their dumb electric eyes.
I am for the white art of refrigerators and their muscular openings and closings.
I am for the art of rust and mold.
I am for the art of hearts, funeral hearts or sweetheart hearts, full of nougat.
I am for the art of worn meathooks and singing barrels of red, white, blue and yellow meat.
I am for the art of things lost or thrown away, coming home from school.
I am for the art of cock-and-ball trees and flying cows and the noise of rectangles and squares.
I am for the art of crayons and weak grey pencil- lead, and grainy wash and sticky oil paint, and the art of windshield wipers and the art of the finger on a cold window, on dusts steel or in the bubbles on the sides of a bathtub.
I am for the art of teddy-bears and guns and decapitated rabbits, exploded umbrellas, raped beds, chairs with their brown bones broken, burning trees, firecracker ends, chicken bones, pigeon bones and boxes with men sleeping in them.
I am for the art of slightly rotten funeral flowers, hung bloody rabbits and wrinkly yellow chickens, bass drums & tambourines, and plastic phonographs.
I am for the art of abandoned boxes, tied like pharaohs.
I am for an art of watertanks and speeding clouds and flapping shades.
I am for U.S. Government Inspected Art, Grade A art, Regular Price art, Yellow Ripe art, Extra Fancy art, Ready-to-eat art, Best-for-less art, Ready-to-cook art, Fully cleaned art, Spend Less art, Eat Better art, Ham art, pork art, chicken art, tomato art, banana art, apple art, turkey art, cake art, cookie art.
I am for an art that is combed down, that is hung from each ear, that is laid on the lips and under the eves, that is shaved from the legs, that is brushed on the teeth, that is fixed on the thighs, that is slipped on the foot.
square which becomes blobby

From Documents from The Store (1961)

Tuesday, April 10, 2012


I'm not entirely sure that it's finished, but it has come to a stopping point. The more time I spend with it, the more stiff it becomes. The life seems to be leaving it, so I've decided to let it be.

cardboard, hot glue, animal hair, and polycrylic


here are some better images of the collages I've been working on...