I’ve been making these pieces that feel too dark to me. I don’t put the collage papers away, though. I keep messing around with them. Annoying.

I want to do lighter, more joyful pieces.

Time seems to stand still in the studio.

These pieces don’t happen quickly. I work on them. I set them aside. They age. The next day, I work on them again. I ponder them. They age again. And again. This isn’t how I usually work.

While I ponder, the word “infinity” seems to hang in the air.

What does infinity connote for me? I write down the words that come quickly.

Space

Cosmos

Beyond time

Universal

Impermanence

Night sky

Antiquity

Timelessness

Generosity

Insignificance

Immaterial

Wonder

Magnificence

Layers

Wisdom

Weightless

Never ending

All encompassing

Eternal

Ageless

Ah, eternal and ageless. I’m starting to understand.

I got some health news during the past month, and I’ve been thinking about the aging process as I make some lifestyle changes.

A little like me, these pieces are somewhat fragile, weathered - with a richness that can only come with age.

Someone commented on Instagram that the pieces reminded them of a shield. I can see that . . . a kind of protection offered by the wrapped threads.

I add more of the washi paper doused in encaustic medium and white acrylic paint to bring a lightness and translucency that feels like the cosmos. . . eternal. As are we.

Now that I understand, I want to give these pieces all the attention they need. I take my time. I let them age.

I make more collage papers so I can make even more.

No wonder they wouldn’t let me go.

I love the weathered, wizened, eternal feel of these aged pieces.

Here are some of them: