OK. For those pilgrims and seekers who are not long time congregants at the Tent Show, A Scissor Dance is the name I give to the collages I do, collages cut and pasted the old fashioned way, with scissors, glue, and a stack of old magazines.
Some of my dances take a long, long time to come together, and I occasionally snap pictures while a dance is still in rehearsal, so to speak. I do this to preserve various arrangements of the elements I intend to use, the cut out bits laid on top of the backing board without glue, so I can look up a .jpeg rather than try to recall a precise layout. My cerebral cortex is in need of defragging, so I cyborg those images to digital memory.
The image above is a Picasa tweak of one of the unfinished, undone Scissor Dances. I’ve been working with these elements, trying to make them dance, for a year or more. That rug just won’t cut. The pieces are in jumble on my desk. I often have no idea what a Scissor Dance is about, but I have come feel that this particular dance is about my mother and me. Or not. And it
is was Mother’s Day.* So I tarted the in-progress snapshot, and post it here as a virtual (late) Mother’s Day card.
Oh yes. I’m thinking of calling it ὁμοούσιος, or, Of One Essence.
*My lap top suddenly decided it wasn’t talking to the wireless e-dohicky, just as I about publish this post yesterday, mDay. Oh well. It was a good day in the motherhood, nevertheless.