While the country is focused on the state of the economy and the recent vote, which rejected the $700 billion bail-out for financial institutions, the U.S. Senate has passed controversial legislation that “threatens the livelihoods of everyone who relies on copyright for a living.”

I’m talking about the “Orphan Works Act,” which was first introduced early last spring. Read the full text of the bill here.

Tom Richmond, MAD Magazine cartoonist, stated “There is no way a logically minded individual can think that the Orphan Works act is a good idea and will help promote the creation of creative works, as it claims. It will seriously damage the livelihood of the very creators they somehow seek to encourage to create.”

It isn’t just cartoonists and illustrators whose livelihood will be impacted by this bill. Musicians, writers, bloggers, photographers, and many other creative artists will be affected. Here is a list of all organizations opposed.

As David Rhodes, President of the School of Visual Arts has said, the Orphan Works bill would socialize the expense of copyright protection while privatizing the profit of creative endeavors.

Here is an example, from Ted Rall, president of the Association of American Editorial Cartoonists (AAEC), to help people gain a basic understanding of this bill.

Let’s say, for example, that a book publisher wanted to print an editorial cartoon in a history textbook. Currently a typical reprint fee for such use is $250. Under current copyright law, a publisher who gets caught using such work without permission would be liable for three times the standard rate—in this case, $750. A judge could order the books impounded. If the cartoonist had to hire a lawyer, a judge could make the violator pay his or her attorney’s fees. These provisions deter most would-be copyright violators.

Under the Orphan Works Act, the deterrent effect of punishment would all but vanish. If the cartoonist learned about the infringement and tracked down its perpetrator, all the publisher would have to do to avoid the triple penalty would be to claim that it engaged in an as-yet undefined “good-faith search.” In the cited example, the aggrieved cartoonist would receive $250. He or she would have no way to remove the image from a book that he or she might find objectionable—say, one that advocated reprehensible political views. There would be no compensation for legal fees, or the time and effort involved in tracking down lawbreakers. And that’s assuming the artist were ever to learn about the illegal usage.

Or, in other words….

© Nick Anderson

my grandmother sent this. I think it’s beautiful.

Artist, musician, and friend of mine, Chris, painted me something based off a list I gave him of my favorite colors, words, images, and ideas. From that list, his process for determining which words he’ll use from the list is a pretty simple one. He read the list several times and focused on the words that appealed to him as an individual and as an artist. This is what those of us who study language mean when we speak of the impossibility of an author being absent from any piece of rhetoric, whether it be an essay, a poem, a news report, a song, or, even a painting.

Anyway, the words he drew out from my list are: the moon, ancient, sleeping (I love sleeping), and mountains. He also used my favorite colors, which I just labeled “earth tones, with purple in moderation.” The original sketch had a monkeywrench looming in the background, but Chris decided it would detract from the rest of the work (but it’s still there in spirit…in the title).

When I first saw it, I really liked it, though wasn’t sure if it resembled me. Then I thought about a line, one that I either heard, read, or wrote myself—I don’t remember, but it still sums up what is important to me—“we are just as much a part of our environment as our environment is a part of us.”

The sleeping figure, though I can’t grow a magnificent beard like that (and great beards should always be described as magnificent, I think), caught me off guard because even though I love sleeping, I don’t think such an illustration is very complimentary. But I think it captures how I feel right now. I feel in between destinations.

I just finished grad school and, during that chaotic time, I was thinking that a PhD. would be my obvious next step, but now I’m having second thoughts. I’m not sure I could sit though more lectures, thinking, reading, writing, and theorizing about the state of the world. I know it’s messed up and I’m tired of thinking and talking about it. I’m beginning to see my niche and I’m not sure more education will enhance that or not. Now that I’m not taking classes, I’m simply teaching them, I already realize and value the time I have to dedicate to myself and activist causes.

I’ve been talking to people and I’ve got some projects and collaborations on the horizon and I have realized that that is what I love. The column I write, the workshops I give for the MARS Project, the environmental work that I do….these are the things that are important to me and these are the things that I love. All I need to do is figure out a way to translate that passion and those activities to a living wage. I’m not saying a PhD. is out, it’s just that I’m not sure that’s what I want to do immediately…and this is for many reasons.

Activists, radicals, deep ecologists, writers, anarchists…all of us…are eventually confronted with having to negotiate the tension between ideology and a paycheck. It’s rough that the same system you seek to change is the same system that you are dependent on to live. I need a job that will fulfill both, but I know it’s ultimately up to me. If I work from 8 until 5 or 6 every day, that leaves 4 or 5 hours a day that I can use for my own projects. Maybe this is why I haven’t even thought of dating anybody during the last year. Any helpful suggestions would be appreciated. I know I’m not the only one that faces these issues.

I thought of better titles like “soul illustration,” or “character composition;” nonetheless, my friend Chris the artist wants to paint one for me. If you haven’t checked out his site, you should do it now. No really…now!

Anyway, he told me to come up with a list of colors, objects, words I like, actions, and abstractions. From that information, he is going to paint me something that resembles who I am. I’m excited. Here is my list.

Earth tones: Green, blue, brown, gray. Purple in moderation. Rain, thunderstorms, water. rivers. dismantle, monkeywrench, resistance, ancient, sleeping, equality, love that does not imply pacifism, sustainability, authentic, dissent, intimacy (that is not sexual, although that is very nice too), DIY, gardening, fulcrums, punk rock, reading, writing, thinking, pine cones, wool blankets, root systems, dams failing, coffee, the moon, cellphone towers collapsing, wolves, I am an animal, community, responsibility, primitive, individuals taking the power back, nature taking the land back, mountains, potlucks, fists, solidarity, teaching (that is not so much telling people what is important, but reminding students what it is like to think and feel and react) music, monsters, dirt, seeds, sabotage, bikes!, bees, respect (not in a generic PC sense, but in an Aretha Franklin-I-matter-so-you-better-listen-respect), self-discovery, experience, friends you only meet once (like on a train or in a coffee shop), goodness, freedom (the real kind), spider webs, and recovery.

I’m thinking it will probably be a big green “A” with a circle around it. We’ll see.

Not many people are able to say that one of their best friends is also their favorite artist. For the last several years, Andy has consistently amazed me with his collage art. Some of it is political, some nostalgic, some playful, some dark, and some absurd. All of them, however, are done with the finest precision, constructed with the kind of imaginative grace reserved only for those patient enough to piece together stories from fragmented images. I thought it would be fun to interview him.

Kyle: I’ve known you for a while now, since 4th grade actually. And if you don’t mind me saying, you were never particularly known for your artistic abilities.

I remember (and maybe still have) some pretty ridiculous drawings that you did when we were kids. How did you get into collage art? What prompted the initial desire to start doing it? Has your confidence as an artist built since those days or does it even matter to you?

Andy: I was never good at sketching or painting. I perfected a few cartoon faces to draw on all of my folders, but that was the extent of it. During a year of significant insomnia, I made cards and designs for my girlfriend out of magazines. It gave me something to do during the night. After a particularly elaborate card, I realized that I could go further with the process. The next collage I made, Sleepwalker, is still one of my favorites.

As far as confidence, I don’t have a great need for validation. I am realistic about what the collages are. I know which ones are good and which ones are lacking. I do it because it’s how I like to spend my time.

Kyle: You also play the guitar beautifully. Does this medium of art impact your collage art at all? In other words, does one have anything to do with the other?

Andy: I think the ideas for both collages and music come from the same place and the pleasure I get out of making tiny cuts is similar to that which I get from playing a finger-picking pattern. It is a somewhat unconscious activity. Just as you can be unaware of how you got from one place to another in a car, the same can be said for playing music or making art.

Kyle: Maybe you can speak a little about your process. Do you start with an image in your head and try to find the pieces? Or is it the other way around?

Andy: I start both ways. Some of the more creative collages start from seeing an element of a picture, such as a person or building that could tell its own story. The original picture of the two boys from Cain and Abel was boring. It was too sweet and simple; there was no story, just a statement. I put a knife in one of the boy’s hands, and now the picture suddenly becomes interesting now something is going to happen. Then I just build an atmosphere around that.

Many of the collages start with a theme or occasionally a complete picture in my head that I attempt to recreate in a collage. The collages that start from a mental image will often take a severe detour and become something very different from what I had originally intended. Though, I think that the deconstruction and reassembly from a mental image is complimentary to the process. Whenever I hit a roadblock, I take a shower and move the pieces around in my head until a new idea comes.

Kyle: Your cuts are so intricate; what kind of tools to you use?

Andy: I use a rotating blade and a self-healing cutting surface for some of the more delicate cuts. I also use hair cutting scissors and finger nail scissors that have curved blades. Soon, I am going to order an obsidian scalpel. The Egyptians used obsidian in ancient surgical procedures and it has been reintroduced to modern medicine because obsidian cuts with less tearing than steel blades.

Kyle: What are your favorite magazines to use? Do you use graphics from other sources?

Andy: Collage art is fragile. The breakdown of pigment is inevitable, so it is best to use images printed on heavier paper. Magazines like National Geographic and Architectural Digest are a better choice than Time magazine. I use more books than magazines because magazines are a bitch to sort through and store.

Kyle: I’ve tried to do what you do and found it a lot harder than it looks. Do you ever get discouraged or frustrated? How do you combat that?

Andy: I will occasionally become discouraged if I have taken a piece as far as I can and it just won’t come together. However, I enjoy the process of cutting the pieces and solving the puzzle. For some reason, it is relaxing to concentrate in this way. I spent 10 hours cutting the sky out from in between the leaves of a tree a couple weeks ago. There is a balance between statements of “I love the process” and “I am working towards a finished product”.

Kyle: What other artists would you recommend people check out if they’re interested?

Andy: Sean Hillen is by far my favorite collage artist. I found his work 2 or 3 years after I had started collaging and I felt like it was a more polished kin to what I was doing. I emailed him some of my pictures once and was a bit of a groupy about his response. I’m sure it was similar to the way you behaved when you first met Derrick Jensen.

Andy lives in Indiana and can be contacted here