Covid 19 Pandemic – Dayna J Collins

Colorful and Dynamic Abstracted Landscapes

It felt good to be back teaching at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology. Last year my workshop was cancelled due to the pandemic and I hadn’t signed up to teach this year because of the uncertainty with Covid. As cases began falling earlier this summer, Sitka’s Program Manager, Tamara, reached out to see if I would be interested in teaching a workshop in September. I jumped at the opportunity. As the workshop date approached, I watched as Covid cases once again surged. I was a little nervous about teaching, but Sitka had worked hard to provide a safe place with lots of protocols already in place. A couple weeks before my workshop, I asked Sitka to cap the class at eight students, to ensure that there would be plenty of space between tables in the studio.

Ready for class to start on Monday morning.

I could write about the week of art-making, the learning, the techniques, the epiphanies, the experimentation, the fearlessness, the laughter, the great energy, the hard work . . . . but instead I’m going to do a photo essay, which I think captures the essence of preparation and our week together.

The studio all set up and filled with so much promise.

Waking up on Monday morning in my little cabin in the woods.

A brand new gallon of Gamblin’s Cold Wax and a fresh pair of gloves. Yes, please.

Little scraps of paper as inspiration for colors, design, or just to jump start our imaginations.

Tam brought me flowers to match my hair.

Doing a demo using plaster (an added bonus).

Plaster demo was an added bonus, sharing how to seal the dried and sanded plaster.

Working, strolling, getting started for the day.

Loretta establishing her color palette for the day.

Loretta’s palette. I wonder why I love this so much.

Margaret fell in love with this wonky old roller.

The evening glow at the end of a day of painting.

Heidi getting the hang of making beautiful marks.

Paintings drying outside in the fresh air.

So many works in progress and the beautiful hum of activity.

I love working in the studio after class . . . .

Tam playing with Transparent Orange glazes. Kapow.

Doing a demo on mounting Arches Oil Paper to a cradled birch panel.

Group photo on a beautiful September afternoon.

Thank you to R&F Handmade Paints for donating pigment sticks and allowing everyone to go home with different colors.

Karla discusses some of her work on our final afternoon.

Margaret discusses some of her completed work.

Lynn discusses her work on our final afternoon.

Nancy does whatever is necessary to get the good shot.

Some of the work created during the week. . . . .

My heart is full and I am feeling grateful.

The Collaborative Body

I was invited to participate in The Collaborative Body in October of 2020, a really cool, socially distanced group project at the Salem Art Association Art Annex. Kathy Dinges, the Community Arts Education Director at Salem Art Association, describes the project:

The Collaborative Body is a dynamic group project in which 17 artists collaborated to transform the Salem Art Association’s Annex! The project is loosely based on various ideas in the surrealist game Exquisite Corpse, in which players would take turns drawing a portion of a body (head, torso, legs) on paper. The previous artist’s contribution was folded over and hidden until the end, when the paper was unfolded to reveal the “exquisite corpse” – the unusual, unplanned, and eclectic interpretation of the body. The ever-changing nature of this project is unlike the corpse– more like a series of interactions. It creates an interwoven, living piece of art, infused with the creative minds and practices of a variety of artists. Participating artists are Eilish Gormley, Rich McCloud, Corrine Loomis Dietz, Bonnie Hull, Erik Brambila, Grace Lundblade, Heidi Preuss Grew, Jessica Amos, Jo Hockenhull, Jim Hockenhull, Jodie Garrison, Katy Vigeland, Leo Cuanas, Cassandra Deatherage, Dayna Collins, Nicole Servin, and Tim Knight.

This project came together during covid19 in response to artists wanting to interact with other artists in a safe way, and encouraged playfulness, experimentation and collaboration.

Over the past six months, I made five appearances. I focused on doing photo transfers directly on the wall, which I embellished on subsequent visits (and other artists also added their own changes to the portraits). It was great fun and I recorded my experience through a series of photos.

On my first visit in early November, work on the walls had already started.

My plan for this first visit was to glue black and white portraits of Australian convicts onto the walls.

On my second visit in mid November, I went around to the portraits and using a wet sponge, began the process of removing the paper backing from the photocopies, leaving the inked image on the wall.

By the time I returned in early December, several of the portraits had been modified, embellished, and given new identities.

In January, I did some embellishing myself, adding bits of gold, crowns, and quotes.

I also pulled out paint and created some stripes of color on a blank portion of wall.

On my final visit the first of February, lots had happened.

And in no particular order, some photos from the many walls over the past few months.

What a great project, and it was a treat to be included.

Now What?

Painting should call out to the viewer . . . and the surprised viewer should go to it, as if entering a conversation.

Roger de Piles, 1676

The dust has hardly settled and I’m already looking ahead to 2021, although I’ve got a jump start on a couple of projects while it is still 2020. But first, my show at RiverSea, Emotional Alignments, gets hung next week and the opening reception will be held on Saturday, January 9, from 12-8 pm during the Astoria Art Walk. I’ll be at the gallery that evening from 5-8 pm if you happen to be out and about.

Nine of 20 pieces in the Emotional Alignments show, opening January 9, 2021, at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, Oregon

Most people would probably wait until after a show has opened before starting work on another show, but I’m not most people. So forward I go, taking full advantage of making art during a pandemic. Early preparations have begun for a May, 2021 show at Salem on the Edge. Very preliminary preparations, lining up which boards I want to use, getting them painted, plaster applied, sanding them outside (weather permitting), and then getting them sealed and ready for applying oil and cold wax. As of this writing, I have no idea what my theme or composition will be – that will come in the new year.

In my next post, I’ll share about another project I’m currently working on . . . . .

What’s Happening Behind the Door of Studio A?

A History: Art Studios at Mission Mill

Studio F Shared With Tory

In August of 2014, my friend Tory and I were invited to join a group of artists who were opening a studio space at the Willamette Heritage Center; we named ourselves the Art Studios at Mission Mill. The space was pretty bland and boring, but in no time at all, we put our mark on our chosen studio: Studio F.

I used the studio for painting, but not as much as I had planned, partially because the space was just too small and I wanted to paint big. And partially because my process is messy.

Studio F By Myself

Then, in June of 2015, two studios opened up. When a studio space opens because an artist leaves, anyone who is interested states their interest and if more than one artist is wanting the vacant space, names are put in a hat and an impartial person draws out a name. Studio A and B both opened in 2015 and several of us put our names in the hat for Studio A. I didn’t get it, but Studio B was also open and Tory put her name in for that one and she got it, leaving me to have all of Studio F for myself.

Studio A

Fast forward to October, 2016, when Studio A opened up again. Two of us put our names into the hat, Rollie and myself, and we asked Max, the bookbinder, to draw a name.

This time my name was drawn and I moved to Studio A, leaving Studio F available, which Rollie moved into. Are you still with me? After all, this is about Studio A . . . .

By the time I moved down the hall to Studio A four years ago, I had already moved my painting practice home and started using my Mill studio for paper and collage projects. I quickly filled my space to the brim, the BRIM, with ephemera, black and white photographs, handwritten letters, typewritten documents, 3D tidbits, vintage this and vintage that . . . .

You get the idea. Although my projects morphed from my What’s Your Story collage series using black and white photos to using discarded books to create Salvage Collages, I just kept schlepping stuff into my studio, tucking things tighter and deeper. Fortunately, I’m organized, so things always looked pretty orderly, but the space was plump with stuff.

Studio A: Revamped

And then the pandemic hit in March. I started working on collages at home, so I took everything related to my Salvage Collages to my home studio: old books, book pages, book scraps, book linen, book boards – several loads over several weeks. I was content to work on book board collages for several months. Then two weeks ago, as my collage work was taking yet another turn, I found I was wanting more of my original paper collage materials: the letters, the ephemera, the booklets, the multitude of paper things I had tucked in bins and drawers. So with the help of Howard, we started making trips to the studio to bring things home. I discovered I wanted to bring it all home, not just the paper stuff, but also the fabric, trims, negatives, the whole shebang. We brought load after load and dumped it in the basement, my auxillary studio where I have all of my assemblage, found objects, and book collage material.

It two weeks to bring it home and two weeks for me to sort and find a place for it. At first it was so I would have access to the materials, but then it became about revamping Studio A.

Studio A: Revamped

Yesterday I brought home the remnants of what I wanted out, along with some of the furniture that filled the space. Today I spent the morning patching the holes (there were alot!), painting the patches, and vacuuming all of the nooks and crannies.

I love how sparse it is right now and full of possibilities. I have absolutely no idea how I will use my refurbished, refreshed, and quiet space. Maybe for reading art books that I never seem to have time for. Maybe for journaling. Maybe for writing about ideas. Maybe I’ll bring a specific project to work on. Or bring a limited number of materials and do a collage or journal page using only what is before me. Maybe, maybe, maybe . . . . .

Handmade Journal: The Great Pause (Part 2)

On March 23, I created a handmade journal, which I titled The Great Pause, referring, of course, to the Corona virus pandemic. Since that time, I have continued to work on the pages, gluing in more fodder, pieces of old books, and lots of scraps from my collage bins. Besides continual alterations and additions, I have been writing on the pages, in no particular order, just finding the best space to write down thoughts, quotes, poems, rants, and even daily activities during such a strange period in my life. I decided it was time to share some of the pages, calling this post Part 2. I could offer a caution that some will be offended, but it’s my journal and my feelings, so I’ll not write about why I included what I included, but just share photos of some of my pages as they continue to morph and emerge.

Handmade Journal: The Great Pause (Part 1)

In mid March, all hell started to break loose as the Corona Virus began to consume our lives in one way or another. On Monday, March 23, Governor Brown mandated a statewide stay at home order. March 23 was the day I decided to create a journal where I could record not only what was taking place around the world and in Oregon, but also for me tucked safely inside my home. What was my new life going to look like in the upcoming weeks, or perhaps months.

The first thing I did was to make a journal using an old book and then gathering lots of paper fodder. I used book pages, music, scraps from torn apart books, and pieces of random papers, post cards, and handbills from my collage stash.

Once my papers were gathered, I bound the book using waxed linen thread and began embellishing the pages with scraps and raggedy book bits. Every day I would go through my journal and add interesting pieces to several pages, put wax paper between the pages, weigh it down overnight, and then come back the next day and do it all over again to different pages. I did this process of turning the pages and adding more day after day for three weeks.

Finally, on Monday, April 13, I declared that my journal was ready, the pages prepared.

At the same time, throughout the past three weeks, I have been writing notes to myself and making lists about the pandemic: sleeping in, routines, gift of time, rhythm of the day, tooth pain, sporty sneakers, oral surgery, helpless, daily walks, fake news, megalomaniac, self care, roller coaster . . . . .

I have printed things I have read: a poignant poem, a particularly good article on adjusting to how to live during this strange time, the timeline of how our president has fumbled and mismanaged the entire pandemic since the beginning. All things I feel inspired to record, share on my pages, or use as jumping off points for processing the range of emotions I have been feeling.

For now, I’m sharing a sampling of my pages before I make any entries, do any writing, make any lists, record poems and timelines, letting the beauty of the collages and materials speak for themselves.

Did I mention when I made the first journal that I made two more at the same time!?! What was I thinking?

Obsessive Quarantining Activity

Before all hell broke loose, I registered for Nicolas Wilton’s popular 12-week ART2LIFE Creative Visionary Program. If you aren’t familiar with it, here’s how Nicolas explains it:

The program is designed for beginner to advanced artists who are interested in significantly shifting and improving their art. This program will guide you into a better understanding of your own unique creative expression. Over the 12 weeks, we will be taking a deep dive into all the 6 Art2Life Principles – Design, Value, Color, Texture, Risk and Soul.

Gaining a thorough understanding of the nuances and interconnectedness of these fundamental principles will allow you to have tremendous creative freedom in any kind of art-making you desire to pursue. Whether you paint realistically or abstractly, draw, paint, collage or any combination of the three, this intensive program will give you all the tools you need. The program is principle-based and its primary purpose is to clarify and strengthen your own authentic creative expression.

The program and the Art2life team of coaches provides you with an amazing community of supportive artists, concise ways to create a more sustainable, joyful art practice and most importantly, the fundamental art-making principles to finally bring your Art to life.

The program is intensive and to do it even nominally, requires several hours a week, and that is without doing any painting. Then, all hell broke loose when Covid-19 began gaining ground and I found myself with extra time to jump all in to the ART2LIFE Creative Visionary Program. However, this post isn’t about the program, but about how Nicholas has all of his paints in squeeze bottles, often the type that restaurants use for ketchup and mustard. One of the benefits of using the squeeze bottles is the consistency of the paint, not too thin (fluid paints don’t work for this program) and not too thick (like tube paints). Nicolas has his own line of paint that are the perfect consistency, but Nicholas is generous with information and he has shared how to get paint to the right consistency.

For the past two weeks, I have been on a mad tear sorting all of my paints, throwing out old dried up ones, and then combining like colors into a mixing bowl, whipping, stirring, adding mediums and water, and then pouring my energized and reformulated paints into plastic condiment bottles. Most of the time I mixed like colors together, even if they were from different brands, but sometimes I just mixed up an assortment of colors, like several different greens, which after mixing I dubbed “Weirdo Green.”