Besides making us feel uneasy, two acts are all that is required to show the repetitive nature of the waiting...a third act would be redundant. We are caught in a loop or running on a treadmill. So I have been reflecting on "two."
In the meantime, I began playing with watercolors in a "Rainbow" instruction manual, which I fished out of the trash basket when a brilliant flash of recycling ingenuity hit me.
One design over two pages appears whole.
One design repeated on each of two pages gives the "eye" look. Two elements that contribute to a whole, like eyes, ears, and eyebrows that give symmetry to our faces.
The vertical version appeals to me more. I'm breaking that old composition rule about 2/3 and 1/3. After all, Beckett thought "two" had interest.
The construction of a page in my textile sketchbook/journal demonstrates that there is no method to my madness.
I thought my trusty glue stick would make the job easier, but pins worked much better. An oddball logcabin developed. As the work progressed the fabrics became more and more frayed.
Now, I do realize that easier ways exist to create similar images. You might say, "Well, Nadia, why didn't you just paint onto fabric? Better yet, you could photocopy the watercolor onto fabric." Yes, good points.
However, the satisfaction of doing this does not depend on the look of the finished work, but on the exploration of what the fabric can do, or what I can do to the fabric. I am not looking for a painterly effect, as such. Rather, looking at the green watercolor paint makes me wonder how far one can push green fabrics and threads.
Another art quilt serves as a frame for this page.
My conclusion? A third element would have balanced the composition. Two elements make me a bit uncomfortable, it's a bit edgy--I think I'll do "two" again to explore the possibilities of edginess.
And, of course, (need you ask?) I much prefer the textile version.
Linked to Nina Marie's "Off the Wall Friday."