About ELO Designs
My main drive toward assemblage art is the love of recycling discarded items to create not only a thing of beauty--but also a statement of some sort.
I believe assemblage art can be just as beautiful as other art forms, such as painting or sculpture. Assemblage, like painting uses color, light, form, technique and conveys meaning. I do all of the above when creating assemblage art. I hand pick items, subject matter, colors and composition in the same way a painter does. I get the majority of my inspiration when going about my daily life. My art is most definitely influenced by the music I listen to while creating. I enjoy using my various tools and have always loved working with my hands.
I find my ‘treasures’ at charity shops, garage sales, the street, the beach and antique shops. I am always hunting for interesting objects or boxes. My studio is very organized, with shelves of containers and plastic boxes that house all my treasures. I like the process of opening a box and the thought processes this action conjures up --such as discovering a secret inside. My work usually carries meaning; but sometimes, I create a piece purely for its aesthetic quality. I’m always curious about various interpretations from the viewer.
My studio is my haven and every time I walk through the door, I am filled with infinite possibilities. For me, assemblage is putting a puzzle together from an image in my head. But it's not without its complications. Sometimes the work has a mind of its own and can organically grow into something that bears no resemblance to the original idea. When this happens I feel I must respect the current creation and let it take me where it wants to go.
I begin an assemblage by choosing the items that best represent the image I want to portray. The items are matched to the size of the box, tin, tray or whatever I’m tackling, and depending on how well they complement each other, things are either added or taken away. I can use any combination of found items. At the beginning of a piece, my studio is immaculate, but by the end of the day, I’ve pulled everything out of drawers, containers off shelves, paper out of bins and somehow it’s a huge mess.
The blank canvas is the most intimidating thing to an artist and I can say the same for an empty box. It’s a scary process, not knowing what this piece will morph into—or not. The whole process is not only a decision making process at each and every turn, but also a constant questioning from my internal critic. The trick is to continue until the critic is silent and stop when the critique persists despite all your best efforts. When that happens, the work is left and forgotten for a while, then revisited at another time when the inspiration finally decides to rebound.