About Liz de Pass

This is a place to share the things I make.

I work in collage — gelli-printed papers, ephemera, acrylic paint, pencil — building up layers until something starts to make sense. I'm self-taught, and I still think of it as play: collecting fragments that catch my eye, moving them around, trying things, taking them away, putting them back again.

I don't always know where a piece is going when I start it. Birds keep turning up in my work at the moment, though it's less about birds as a subject and more about noticing something and finding where it fits — the connections matter more than the subject.

Some pieces become originals. Some may become prints or cards. And at some point, I'd like to invite people to come and play with some of these materials and ideas too.

For now, this is simply where I share what I've been making.

Field Notes

Field Notes started with birds — the ones I couldn't stop noticing, and the ones I made up entirely, perched somewhere they've no business being. It's grown since then to include garden birds, and moths are on their way in too.

The name was never really about birds specifically. It's about paying attention: collecting what catches my eye, and seeing what it turns into once it lands in a piece.

Each one starts the same way — gelli-printed and found papers, an image that catches my eye - and no fixed idea of where it's going. Some pieces stay close to what a bird or a moth actually looks like.

Others drift into something stranger — a chalice, a halo, a horn of plenty, things that have no reason being in the same frame as a jackdaw except that they wanted to be.

This is where I keep those.

Featured

Mixed Media Artwork

The Toast

Two birds meet over glasses of something I never quite decided on. The pink blooms behind them do most of the talking. 

Blue on Red

I liked the deepness of the orange before anything else. The blue sits against it exactly the way I wanted, both holding their own.

What the Crow Kept

A crow, some roses, and whatever it is crows keep to themselves. I like the ones that look like they know something you don't.

Flamingo

Sometimes a piece doesn't need a story, just a bird that's confident enough to carry the whole page. This is that one.