The Little Things (2020)

The Little Things is a series of 102 small works inspired by the cyclical nature of matter and the interconnectedness of all that inhabits Earth. Just as planetary substances cycle, break down, and rearrange into new beings, these collages are formed from excess materials that have been reused and wittled down over time. As a result, each collage is unique yet still composed of common materials, which can be recognized throughout the series.

All of the bits and pieces are found or are sourced from previous projects. The smallest scraps, which are often overlooked or discarded, are intentionally selected as the building blocks for this series. 

The process of repurposing these materials into new forms is deeply rewarding, akin to uncovering layers of history within each piece. As the scraps diminish in size over years of reuse, they gain a sense of magic and significance in their renewed purpose, becoming sedimentary objects with nonlinear histories.

Little Bite Gallery

Select works from The Little Things were first exhibited with Little Bite Gallery in 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic necessitated that the exhibit be held virtually on Little Bite's website. 

Interview

In addition to the virtual exhibition, Little Bite Gallery published an interview with me. Little Bite Gallery is now closed and their website is inactive, so the interview has been posted in the space below. This interview was conducted by Alyssa Mannis.

 Do you remember when home/domesticity became something you were very aware of?

Expressing myself through my personal space has always contributed to my peace-of-mind. My childhood bedroom was full of special objects that surrounded me with a sense of self, and I took great pride in maintaining that space. After taping up all my photos and notes from friends, cleaning and organizing my belongings, taking care of my hamsters, and throwing on some good music, I felt so fulfilled. I would just sit there and absorb all of the positive energy that I cultivated in my little corner of the world. Back then, domesticity was not something I was consciously aware of; however, I consider that same enthusiasm for personalized space to be a large part of my artistic practice today. I still love to just sit in my apartment and let the vibes settle in. I became more explicitly aware of domesticity through my work in grad school. Initially, I was a bit resistant to the notion that my art dealt with domesticity, for I felt my art was more focused on concepts like anxiety and mindfulness. I also had preconceived notions about what it meant to be “domestic.” As a woman, I was afraid that, if I owned up to the presence of domesticity in my work, I would be expected to address the importance of gender roles as well. I was never really interested in that dynamic of domesticity, mostly because it wasn’t in the forefront of my experience. Eventually, I realized that domesticity looked different in every person and that it was OK for me to be a woman and not directly address gender through my art. After I re-evaluated what domesticity really meant to me as an individual, I began to honor the huge role it played in my life and in my work. I thought about how habits of the mind and body were symbolically represented in my living space, and I realized that the idea of “home” was rich and fascinating territory for exploring topics like anxiety and mindfulness. I became very aware of home and domesticity in the creation of my MFA thesis project, titled Where I Live (2019). The project was a 550 square foot mixed media painting in which I contemplated how my experience of my apartment, domesticity, and the mundanities of everyday life related to the simultaneous activity within my mind.

What aspect of your creative process puts you in a flow state?

My entire approach to image making depends on flow quite a bit. The collage materials I use are more or less random, besides the fact that they are mostly found or repurposed from previous projects. I feel that, because I am using what I have on hand, I must make decisions intuitively. Pieces of tissue paper, canvas, fabric, paper from previous paintings, envelopes, folders, and even dried paint peels are used, and they all vary in size, shape, color, thickness, transparency, and pattern. They continuously accumulate in my studio, and I find places for them in my paintings. I make decisions, I commit to them, and then I circle back to respond to those decisions with more decisions. I find myself always responding to what is there by lining up pieces, by repeating patterns in new ways, by painting around shapes, or by consciously disrupting shapes. Sometimes, I let the material do its thing, like fray, drip, rip, or wrinkle. Then I respond. It’s a co-creative relationship with the material, which keeps me present in the process.

What’s your process like when you start a painting or collage? Is it different when the size varies?

Yes - my approach does change between larger and smaller works.

In larger works, I start with a line drawing of a specific space or object in my home. I always depict something that is real. In the line drawing, I represent shape and perspective as accurately as I can. I will occasionally layer multiple line drawings on top of each other, where they overlap and intersect in interesting ways. In those instances, I love to play with scale, meaning there could be a giant tea kettle next to a tiny chair. After I draw the base image, I start adding color and texture with either paint or collage. As the image develops, that clear and simple drawing becomes less and less apparent. I repeatedly alternate between painting and collaging until I feel that the image is complete. The final image seems almost like a non-objective painting, even though it began as an objective drawing. The viewer may not ever see the base image in the final painting, but I hope they discover a lot of exciting moments within the material as they look for it.

The smaller works that I create do not usually start with an image. They are mostly non-objective and more of a celebration of the material itself. Those pieces begin with me (and my cat, who loves to help!) digging through a giant pile of scraps and picking out whatever excites me at that moment. Then, I start pasting scraps together, allowing myself to respond to various shapes, colors, and textures intuitively.

How does your art practice mirror or contrast the ways in which you relate to the world?

Oh my, where do I start? My art practice mirrors how I relate to the world in so many ways. The subject of my work is my home and how I relate to it. I think about moments in my home, behaviors, routines, and rituals that revitalize me and prepare me to take on the day. For example, in 2018, I created a series of collages that featured images of my morning routine. The way in which I depict my home also symbolizes my intra-personal experience of the world within my mind. My thoughts can certainly distract me from the present moment, just as paint and collage material abstract and obscure the moments depicted in my paintings. I find it fascinating that, even in the chaos of my paintings, one may still find peace in simply observing all there is to see in the materials themselves. That’s kind of my goal in life - to live mindfully, to be an observer, and to embrace things for what they are. In a more concrete way, my personal values are represented in the materials I use. Almost all of my belongings are second-hand, and I love that for many reasons. I believe that my love for second-hand items is also what compels me to be resourceful with my supplies and reuse scrap material. Everything has personality to me, and knowing that something is second-hand or repurposed just makes it that much more intriguing.

Tell us about your relationship with rest.

My beliefs about rest and my relationship with rest are two very different things. I believe that rest is essential to allowing the nutrients of my hard work to settle in. It provides renewed perspective, and it keeps me healthy, mentally and physically. I also believe that rest is an intentional act, something that takes practice. It’s not exactly natural for me to truly rest my mind and my body. I can get pretty tightly wound, and I’m sure I’m not alone, especially in the fast paced world we live in today. So, my relationship with rest is a little more complex. I have to remind myself how important it is. Sometimes I feel that rest is not valued in our society, so there is a sense of guilt that comes with “takin’ it easy.” I really want to build a life where rest and stillness is valued, which is why I practice meditation and yoga on a daily basis.

What does sanctuary mean for you?

Sanctuary to me, is a place where one feels safe and nurtured. My home is the sanctuary I built with and for myself, my husband, and our cat. While we care for our bodies by eating, sleeping, and bathing here, we also nurture our souls in the way we arrange and utilize the space. As corny as that may sound, it’s so true! I guess it boils down to our need for stimulation, balance, functionality, and aesthetic. I don’t think it requires a space that’s straight out of a catalog. It’s about making the best of what you have, and doing it in a way that feels authentic, that serves your needs, and that makes you proud.

How about balance?

That is the key to life. I lose balance all the time, in small ways and sometimes in big ways. I know that I can always refer to my core values in order to return to a balanced state. It’s usually when I stray from those values that I feel off-balance. I value self-care, which includes maintaining my sanctuary, having self-awareness and self-acceptance, loving others, and spending time with my family. I also value curiosity and self-sufficiency, which is probably why I am a maker at heart. I think my dad has a lot to do with that - he is a DIY dude who loves to know how stuff works. My choices are guided by these values… most of the time. Nobody is perfect, so it’s totally normal to lose that balance. In fact, I believe that all of life is a balancing act. Staying connected to my core values helps me return to my center and move through life in a way that feels successful and satisfying.

If you are interested in purchasing my artwork, have any questions about my practice, or would like to collaborate, please email me at danimichauxart@gmail.com. I’d be thrilled to hear from you.

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Love Song (2021)

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Where I Live (2019)