I am a conduit for what is seeking to be. Images float into my consciousness—through dreams, prompts, or life’s meandering road. Some stay, others move on in search of another artist. Those that remain don’t reveal themselves fully; they play with my imagination until I can almost see the finished piece. I sketch in my head, leaving room for modifications as the work unfolds.
I embrace papercutting because the material, though seemingly unforgiving, often guides me through unexpected turns. A “false” cut may lead to a better direction. That interplay between control and serendipity keeps the process alive. Even when I lay out a design digitally, I avoid too much detail to preserve spontaneity. Collaboration offers similar surprises—I never know how others will shape the conversation or the final piece.
Paper itself inspires me. It’s ordinary, often discarded without thought. Yet when transformed, it becomes extraordinary. Like humanity, paper has an inner strength that’s not always visible. I’ve cut designs as large as four by eight feet, amazed by how delicate, web-like structures hold together. I hope viewers reassess this humble material—and others in their lives—with renewed appreciation.
Nature and the human form often deliver themes best suited to my work. “Seeds,” “broken branches,” “birds in flight,” and “whirlwinds” are universal symbols that speak across cultures. Likewise, the pose of a figure—whether recognizable or not—tells a story felt in the body.
To be a conduit is my purpose. Creating something that wants to materialize is a powerful act. Once made, it carries its own energy, ready to interact with those who encounter it.
Debra A. Collins 