These collages are made from personal photographs and magazines, sometimes with a dab of acrylic, usually on wood. And that’s all there is to say about that.
There are people who would argue that my collages are not art (but rather craft), and that I am not an artist (because I am untrained and cannot draw). Meh, I don’t really care about all that. Call me what you want, just don’t call me late for dinner. Ha! My mom loves that joke.
As for what I think of art – Twisty nails it with this:
Art, art, art. Art isn’t holy. It doesn’t float on gossamer truth-wings in a rarefied aether of absolute beauty. Art is merely the graphic representation of ideas, presented from a point of view. Good ideas, bad ideas, medium ideas, ideas that other people have had already, ideas that initially seem clever but get kind of old once the novelty wears off, startling ideas, political ideas, glorious ideas, ideas that fucking stink.
Like I said, not all ideas are good ideas, and not all representations are philosophically legitimate representations. Artifying an idea doesn’t automatically legitimize it. Some ideas, such as “the male gaze reigns supreme” and “women enjoy oppression,” not only suck, they are so violent and antisocial that it is impossible to represent them without harming innocents.
Some art — this is the rarest kind — enbiggens its audience. I allude to the sort of crap that, when you look at it, seamlessly transmits to you its philosophic value. Suddenly you yearn to get off your ass and foment unrest, or wish to do good works in the community, or vow to start eating better, or sign up for a class, or experience something grave, excellent and out of the ordinary, or go “ha!”, or regard the status quo with renewed suspicion.
A feminist critique of art calls for a demystification of the academic canon of Great Dude Masters Through the Ages anyway, and of the creative process in general. Get Art down off its high horse. Give women and people of color their due. Legitimize once and for all those traditionally undervalued, non-white-dude art forms: pottery, tapestry, embroidery, quilting, illuminated manuscripts, potholders made out of poodle hair on Etsy.
In other words, you can call it anything art, that doesn’t mean it’s mystical or meaningful. The identification of something as legitimate art does not elevate its intrinsic value. Why not call every graphic expression of an idea Art with a capital A, level the playing field, and then be forced to look a little closer in order to judge its merits?
I’d love to make that rare kind of art that ‘embiggens’ my audience, but I’m not there yet. Maybe that’s what I aspire to.
Ok done!
Email me at tammy at blondestrawberry dot com
how dare you use my saying. I’ve been saving that for somthing important and now it’s all over the web and people everywhere are going to be using it; lmao (is that shortcut right?)
Why didn’t I know you had a website? why can’t you talk to me once in a while. Do I have to find out everything from someone else? Don’t you love me anymore? Or maybe you never did!
Well I love you and think your website is fantastic. you are so… talented.
Mom