Playing with a Full Deck

I went into the studio intending to make an accordion book. I picked up a deck of cards from my box of collage papers. The next thing I know, I’ve built a little house.

A house of cards. It is a metaphor, is it not, for something flimsy; impermanent. A house of cards is at risk of falling apart.

I wondered if I could turn the house into the body of an art doll somehow.

Chris, my teenage son, then wandered in and I told him about the 100-art-dolls challenge. He was interested when he learned that Arrigo is involved, since Arrigo is cool.

I showed Chris how I’d cut the face of a queen from a card and wanted to attach it above the house to make a doll. Chris asked, ‘why not just make a doll and have her sit on the house?’ This, of course, was an excellent suggestion.

I constructed a doll from cut-out bits of card. With her helmet she looks like Joan of Arc. Poor Saint Joan, seated on a house of cards about to collapse beneath her. She burned at the stake, you know.

When I was in 4^th grade, my teacher Mrs. Allred told us to find out if we were related to anyone famous, and then report back to class. Robin Holler, it turned out, was related to Daniel Boone. Suddenly this propelled Robin to a more significant status in my mind.

My dad was doing paperwork that evening when I approached him and asked if I was related to anyone famous. “Oh,” he said, “Joan of Arc.”

“Thanks,” I said and left his study. I didn’t know a lot about Joan of Arc, but I had heard of her. I knew she was French and had dressed in armor and had become a saint.

The next day at school Mrs. Allred invited us to share about our famous ancestors. I proudly raised my hand and announced, “I’m related to Joan of Arc”.

Now, I didn’t expect my classmates to get as excited about Joan of Arc as the stir created by Daniel Boone the previous day. But I was certain that Mrs. Allred herself would be impressed. She was Catholic too, and probably into saints.

I was mistaken. Mrs. Allred frowned. She clearly didn’t believe me. “Right,” she said in a pierced voice that indicated she really wanted to say ‘wrong’.

My proverbial house of cards, which had seemed so wonderful, tumbled down around me. Had my father been wrong about Joan of Arc? Had he lied? My father never lied. He was the most honest person I knew. And he was really smart and knew everything.

This is one of those childhood incidents I still roll over in my mind from time to time. It was out of character for my father to jest when one of his children approached him with a serious question. Of course, he didn’t see at that moment that my question was serious. We miscommunicated. It was a lesson about how easy it is to misunderstand one another.

As I revisited these memories I continued to make three more collaged playing card dolls. My queens have nifty hands made with a little Carl hand punch. Jumping Jack is my personal favorite. I mounted each doll on the front of a blank greeting card, but I could frame then later on. I really enjoyed the time spent making these dolls.

The 3 flat mounted dolls above are all dancing the boogie. Yet they have such pained looks on their faces! It’s like they are having fun but they don’t anyone to see that they are actually enjoying themselves.

I certainly don’t want to be like that. I think all these playing card people need to lighten up, don’t you?

Here’s a link to a pdf instruction sheet showing how to make a house of cards. That’s courtesy of Go-Make-Art.

(This post relates to the Collaged Playing Card Dolls, Stacey Apeitos art dolls #3, 4, 5 and 6, January 2008)