The Habit of Gathering

Recently I returned from a few weeks in the South of France and unintentionally came home with a bundle of found papers, fragments of terracotta tiles and fabric that I found on a market stall. This is nothing new for me. I’ve always been a bit of a magpie and partial to finding treasures at boot sales.

Lately though, I’ve started to think more carefully about why I am always on the look out for things to bring home. I’ve realised that it is an important part of my creative process; a way of building relationships with materials, colour and texture before I know what I will make.

It has also become a way for me to be more present, to slow down and notice more.

Gathered fragments.

Gathering Before Making

I never really collect things with a plan for what they will become. In fact, at the time, I rarely think about making at all. Sometimes I’m gathering objects, at other times I’m using my phone to collect colours, texture, and surfaces that catch my eye. 

Recently I’ve started to observe how the things I gather, both physically and visually, shape my thinking without me realising. 

The fragments of terracotta, the fabrics from France, the photos of walls and weaving from Marrakech have given me inspiration for both  a colour palette and a way of thinking about surface and materials in my work.

This is often how ideas begin for me. Not at the point of sitting down to make, but much earlier, through handling, noticing and living alongside these gathered references.

Threads holding colour, dust and memory.

Where Collage Begins

The nature of collage invariably means collecting. Most collage artists recognise the value of discarded and found materials as potentially useful for their work. Picasso, Schwitters and Rauschenberg used everyday finds like newspaper, tickets, packaging and fabric scraps, showing us that anything can be raw material.

I have boxes with billboard paper from Lisbon, thin sheets of wooden packing with interesting text and pieces of rusty metal, all waiting for the right moment. If you are a collage artist too, you will probably be familiar with the studio shelves overflowing with gathered materials. To others, the boxes of bits and bobs might look like clutter but to me they are a collection of future possibilities.

As Gerald Brommer (2007 p26) says in his book about collage techniques, “No material is too inferior to be used in collages”.

The studio table after gathering.

Gathering as Noticing

On walks I sometimes make small bundles from the things I find along the way, tying them together with a piece of string as I go. At other times I simply photograph what catches my eye. 

A few years ago I came across the artist James Aldridge, who creates these walking bundles; small wrapped collections of found materials made during walks. For him, they act as both a record of place and a quiet, reflective ritual.

I’ve come to realise that collecting and gathering is an easy way of being present in your surroundings. Stopping to look at things more closely slows me down and helps me notice more.

Next time you head out, slip a piece of string into your pocket and make your own bundle. You might even like to draw from it when you get home.

A walking bundle made in France

When We Stop Noticing

In a similar way that adults stop playing, they often also stop noticing. Our busy lives encourage us to move through the world quickly and functionally and we often miss the potential in the small things around us.

I have been guilty, as an artist, of thinking I need to buy more materials to help progress my making when sometimes I could actually take a moment to notice and use what is already there in my studio or garden. Some string, old fabric, and gathered sticks make the most wonderful mark making brushes. 

Handmade brushes

An Invitation to Gather

So I invite you to spend some time gathering things that catch your eye when you are out and about. Start paying attention to the small things - you might be surprised what you see. 

Maybe have a box, envelope or small bag to keep your findings in. Or a folder on your phone, with all the things you've captured and can come back to.

What might you begin to notice if you allowed yourself to gather without purpose?

If you would like to see how the things I gather impact my work then why not follow along on Instagram - the link is at the bottom of the page.

Reference

Brommer, G.F. (2007). Collage techniques : a guide for artists and illustrators. New York, Ny: Watson-Guptill.