Collage Zine: “Seats of Flower” Studio Project
This past year, I’ve spent countless hours at one of three desks in my studio, surrounded by paper scraps, half-finished drawings, and quiet. It’s where I’ve been building several series of collages, one by one, from an ever-growing archive of shapes and sketches. The idea for Seats of Flower began almost by accident. I have been making small still life collages of imagined interior spaces when I drew a red, white, and blue chair into one of the rooms. I kept eyeing that chair as I built that piece, now in the world as "Still Life: Mangoes and Cut Flowers".
From that single drawing came the thought: What if the chair wasn’t just a prop in a room, but the focal point of something more layered? What if the chair was a stand-in for where I am now—both present and absent in various forms?
The title Seats of Flower is, of course, a play on “seats of power.” I currently sit in America, a country undergoing deep political shifts and daily reckonings. In contrast, I sit at my desk and make colorful, joyful work. That contrast fuels this zine. Each page of Seats of Flower presents a chair paired with interpretive, often unruly flowers. The scenes suggest that someone has just left the room. The seat is still warm, the air still moving. The flowers, in all their saturated bloom, hold the space.
In a time when politics can feel suffocating, these chairs and their floral companions offer a small rebellion. They are imperfect, strange, surreal. Just like now.
Each drawing was sketched directly onto the folded page. I began by folding a single 9 x 11.75 inch sheet of paper into zine form, then sketched a unique chair-flower scene into each panel. The tools I used include wax pastels, colored pencils, markers, acrylic markers, cardstock, and bits of original drawings. I made color and form choices as I went, guided by feel more than a plan.
The flowers in this zine are the visual reminder to myself that beauty still exists, that it infiltrates even the darkest corners, and that we owe it to ourselves to notice it. In a time when politics can feel suffocating, these chairs and their floral companions offer a small rebellion. They are imperfect, strange, surreal. Just like now.
At the moment, I’m not sure if I’ll print or distribute Seats of Flower beyond sharing it here. Right now, it’s part of my studio practice and marks a season of personal upheaval.
Here is a quick flip-through of my tiny zine, “Seats of Flower”.
I hope this little zine brings a spark of joy. I hope it reminds you that even in the quietest rooms, something alive remains.
