Judith Tannenbaum

Grateful for everything John Cage this centennial year. Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco had many wonderful events. And so appreciated Kay larson's wonderful new biography of Cage: Where the Heart Beats: John Cage, Zen Buddhism, and the Inner Life of Artists. Here are three of the collages I've made this month, a couple with quotes taken from the bio.

This quote, too, from the Kay Larson bio. Wonderful Jasper Johns exhibit at SFMOMA now -- November 2012

I'm loving Cohen's new CD and some of his lines inspired these collages.

WritersCorps teaching artist, Rick D'Elia -- inspired by the vision, writing, and practices of wandering walkers -- is sharing what he's finding with the Apprentices. I joined the group on February 15 and we walked from the San Francisco Arts Commission into the neighborhood noting whatever struck us as lost. Here are a few of the collages I made in response to that afternoon.

My new book! You can buy a copy here.

Been reading and loving Charles Simic's Dime-Store Alchemy: The Art of Joseph Cornell. Simic's prose poems inspired these collages.

Four new collage in response to Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities.

Made many collage this spring inspired by Rebecca Solnit's A Field Guide to Getting Lost. Here are a few.

The biggest gift of weeks at an art colony is endless time to write, to make. At VCCA, this past spring, part of my stay was spent putting together a poetry manuscript. I also made collage using some of the lines in my poems. Here are a few of those:

Janie and I talked and talked when she visited last January. We're both hungry for time and space to surround us in memory and image. She suggested I read the new Lydia Davis translation of Proust's Swann's Way and I did. This collage is from that reading. Some of the other passages in the book I used on other pages:

"... Winter bedrooms in which, as soon as you are in bed, you bury your head in a nest braided of the most disparate things, a corner of the pillow, the top of the covers, a bit of shawl, the side of the bed and an issue of the Debats roses."

“So it was that, for a long time, when awakened at night, I remembered Combray again, I saw nothing of it but this sort of luminous panel, cut out among indistinct shadows, like those panels which the glow of a Bengal light or some electric projection will cut out and illuminate in a building whose other parts remain plunged in darkness.”