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www.outlandishfeline.com
Mixed Media Artist, lost in her own mad mind......
Ms. Kat Monroe
altered art- art shrines- jewelry design-acrylic
painting-collage-poetry
and whatever else passes through my world.......
Mixed Media Artist, lost in her own mad mind......
Ms. Kat Monroe
altered art- art shrines- jewelry design-acrylic
painting-collage-poetry
and whatever else passes through my world.......
“Martyr” 11-15-09
Kat Monroe
During my elementary years I attended Catholic School. I t was a
horrid experience, which has lead to years of therapy, red wine
sipping and a very odd creative mind. I do not remember exactly in
which grade it was, I believe it was second grade. I had a teacher
that had taught me, and I am sure the rest of the class a huge
lesson in guilt. She had us construct beautiful crosses out of bright
colors then place our name on the bottom when we were finished. We
were all so proud of our creations.
Then came my first major lesson in how to feel guilty all the time,
even for minuscule things. Every time we were in trouble or had done
something out of line, we were to take a black marker and draw a
nail, yes a nail, on the cross to symbolize the anguish that we
caused- likening it to that of the driving a nail in the being that we
were taught to worship. Of course my beautiful cross was soon
transformed into a horrible crucifix marred with dozens of black
scribbles.
Now all grown-up after working as a librarian in a Catholic school for
a few years and teaching in one as well, for as long as I could stand
it. (I was not the typical Catholic schoolteacher) These “nails” have
stuck with me.
One day while at the hardware store looking for unusual items to
utilize in my art, I came across carpet nails. I picked up a box and
examined them. I fell in love with these carpet tacks and now very
much love to use them in my art. I have found it to be a form of
therapy to create beautiful (in my eyes) objects of art instead of
having them remind me of guilt….
This is created from carpet nails, bullet casings, scraps of paper, and
old figure that I found at the swap meet, a vintage cherub charm,
and an old piece of my mother’s chandelier crystal on a canvas block…
Kat Monroe
During my elementary years I attended Catholic School. I t was a
horrid experience, which has lead to years of therapy, red wine
sipping and a very odd creative mind. I do not remember exactly in
which grade it was, I believe it was second grade. I had a teacher
that had taught me, and I am sure the rest of the class a huge
lesson in guilt. She had us construct beautiful crosses out of bright
colors then place our name on the bottom when we were finished. We
were all so proud of our creations.
Then came my first major lesson in how to feel guilty all the time,
even for minuscule things. Every time we were in trouble or had done
something out of line, we were to take a black marker and draw a
nail, yes a nail, on the cross to symbolize the anguish that we
caused- likening it to that of the driving a nail in the being that we
were taught to worship. Of course my beautiful cross was soon
transformed into a horrible crucifix marred with dozens of black
scribbles.
Now all grown-up after working as a librarian in a Catholic school for
a few years and teaching in one as well, for as long as I could stand
it. (I was not the typical Catholic schoolteacher) These “nails” have
stuck with me.
One day while at the hardware store looking for unusual items to
utilize in my art, I came across carpet nails. I picked up a box and
examined them. I fell in love with these carpet tacks and now very
much love to use them in my art. I have found it to be a form of
therapy to create beautiful (in my eyes) objects of art instead of
having them remind me of guilt….
This is created from carpet nails, bullet casings, scraps of paper, and
old figure that I found at the swap meet, a vintage cherub charm,
and an old piece of my mother’s chandelier crystal on a canvas block…
Living….
This is "Living" she is an old porcelain doll. I have had her for a while, she has
moved from my dresser to the kitchen, back to my dresser then finally she sat
at my kitchen table- where most of my creating happens- for a few months. She
called to me, but I did not know what to do with her. I thought about putting
her in a shrine, but I tried it and she didn’t seem comfortable. Her arms and
legs and head were all attached with worn, fabric elastic. When you moved them
they made a horrible scratching sound. The porcelain edges of the limbs rubbing
together was unnerving. I decided to cut the elastic. With one snip of the
scissors, her head and limbs were free. I could almost feel her relief as the
pieces fell in my hands. I white washed her body, gave her a tiny pink heart and
placed her on a background with flowers, rhinestones, fibers and carpet nails and
the pieces of her old, worn elastic. I hung her on the wall and now call her
living…. She seems much happier there…
This is "Living" she is an old porcelain doll. I have had her for a while, she has
moved from my dresser to the kitchen, back to my dresser then finally she sat
at my kitchen table- where most of my creating happens- for a few months. She
called to me, but I did not know what to do with her. I thought about putting
her in a shrine, but I tried it and she didn’t seem comfortable. Her arms and
legs and head were all attached with worn, fabric elastic. When you moved them
they made a horrible scratching sound. The porcelain edges of the limbs rubbing
together was unnerving. I decided to cut the elastic. With one snip of the
scissors, her head and limbs were free. I could almost feel her relief as the
pieces fell in my hands. I white washed her body, gave her a tiny pink heart and
placed her on a background with flowers, rhinestones, fibers and carpet nails and
the pieces of her old, worn elastic. I hung her on the wall and now call her
living…. She seems much happier there…
ms. kat monroe 2010
