Collaborators
Marcie Simon (California)
Jamie Buzil (Illinois)
jody berns (Illinois)
Anne Houde (Illinois)
Leah Sosewitz (Illinois)
Delivery Sequence
Marcie sends to Jamie
Jamie sends to jody
jody sends to Anne
Anne sends to Leah
Leah sends to Marcie
PROGRESS GALLERY
Anne Houde, March 9, 2026
Final Additions to Anne’s collage, February 2026
I finished the collage with a few additions
– a hand holding an open book by Hawthorne
– a recipe card from someone’s Bubbe
– a book figure of a plant (more for the birds to look at)
The entire collage represents ways in which information was once presented, but that are being left behind.
March 6, 2026—Anne Houde’s completed collage has arrived at headquarters.
February 27, 2026—Jamie Buzil’s completed collage has arrived at headquarters.
Jamie Buzil, February 25, 2026
February 2026 – Final Touches
I feel so grateful to have been included again this year with these talented and creative artists working on this postal collage. It has been a journey which has helped me stretch my creative process to include more than photography. To finish my left behind work, I added a ribbon frame and some frayed ribbon to emulate cobwebs. Much of our memories are lost or even a bit foggy. The frayed ribbon represents the cobwebs that pose roadblocks to all the details.
February 25, 2026—Marcie Simon’s completed collage has arrived at headquarters.
Marcie Simon, February 23, 2026
My original collage (returned) seemed “unfinished”, with too much empty space and disconnected sections. I made final additions to include torn gold accents repeating the gold in the first section; “Heirlooms in the making” beneath Anne’s mug; Completing the top right corner, is a black & white photo of a ceramic lamp made by my Mom; Her ceramics were a large part of my childhood with her in-home art studio. I cherish these lamps & additional bronze sculpture as functional or unique decorative statements in my home today.
February 11, 2026—jody berns’s completed collage has arrived at headquarters.
jody berns, February 5, 2026
I received my original piece and put the final touches on it. I am sending it to Berkley tomorrow.
Jody Berns, January 15, 2026
Anne Houde’s original – Jody Berns contribution
When my mother passed away, I collected up all of her art books, papers, and clippings of ideas she took from many items such as magazines and newspapers. I kept some, but gave away a lot of her books. I still have some of her drawing instruction books on perspective, anatomy, and composition. When my 14 year old budding artist granddaughter visited last month, she showed me how she is teaching herself figure drawing and “finding her own style” with trial and error, and copying people and objects she sees. I showed her some of my mom’s books, especially the ones on anatomy and told her she could keep them. She shyly smiled and said “that’s ok…”. Her preference is to look online and use other methods rather than a book. I have included some of the figures from this mid-century drawing book. And I wonder if it will be used with purpose once again.
January 14, 2026—Leah Sosewitz’s complete collage has arrived at headquarters.
Jamie Buzil, January 7, 2026
Adding to Jody Berns collage: Over the course of my life, I’ve collected many objects, but the ones I return to most in my thoughts are the pieces given to me or passed down from loved ones who are no longer here. They hold stories, comfort, and a quiet sense of presence. When I began thinking about what to add to Jody’s work, I realized that some of the most meaningful things in my life aren’t objects at all. Music has always been there for me. I remembered my old record albums tucked away and pulled them out again, letting them speak. I replicated a few and folded them into this piece. Music has been the thread running through my life—teaching me, shaping me, and inviting me to play. It lives in memory and motion, and it continues to hold me.
Adding to Anne Houde’s collage: I love stories. I love books. And I’ve always been drawn to historical fonts—the way letters carry time within them. When I think about reading, though, I think of my mom. She was a voracious reader. Books were everywhere, stacked in corners and on tables, even though she faithfully donated them to Brandeis book sale yearly. Recently, I came across a box I had packed away from her house, filled with her high school memorabilia. She was a modest woman and rarely spoke about her accomplishments, so opening that box felt like uncovering a quiet, beautiful story she never told out loud. For Anne’s collage, I chose to create a small book using pieces from that box, including her National Honor Society certificate—a way of honoring both her love of learning and the legacy she passed on to me.
Marcie Simon, January 4, 2026
I have very few, yet treasured items “left behind” by my Maternal Grandparents: Cecil and Benjamin. I felt it important to include their names.
A large, carved and slightly gilded antique mirror that once hung in their dressing room; Now holds a prominent place in my dining area.
Brass candlesticks shown here and reflected in the bottom third of the mirror.
I floated the image atop a crinkled gold “frame”; Repeating the golden light and fluted rim of Jamies’ lamp.
It rests beneath the veil as part of the past and present.
Although left behind, seeing the mirror and candlesticks daily brings me joy and keeps my Grandparents memories alive.
Anne Houde, December 19, 2025
This week I delivered two collages to Leah: Marcie’s and Leah’s (full circle!).
About my addition to Leah’s:
I added two birds to Leah’s collage. They are deliberately ambiguous: are they notes of hope that some critters will escape the fires and survive in a regrown habitat? Or do they represent what will be lost?
About my addition to Marcie’s:
I added a picture of this mug to Marcie’s collage. I will never throw it out, so my kids will likely find it and wonder about it, but the story behind it might lost to them.
The story is simple: In the early 1960’s when I was around 3, my parents took me on trips to Vermont to ski. We stayed in an old rooming house for skiers near Mt. Snow, run by Mrs. Streeter. The house surprised me: there were wires for lights running across the ceilings, and there was a scary old potbelly stove in the living room (perhaps it was the main heat for the house). Mrs. Streeter bought me a mug with my name on it and kept it for when we came back, except, I guess for the last time. It’s been with me for many years.
Leah Sosewitz, December 10, 2025
Leah’s addition to Jamie’s Collage
What is Left Behind
12/3/25
I’m not sure how I came in possession of this photograph – a Hollywood-esque portrait of a man – a man to whom my mother was once engaged, but did not marry. I wish I could ask her for details of that broken engagement now, but she’s been gone for 24 years and I’m left with questions.
The photo has always reminded me that if she had indeed married this man, named Reggie (never did I know his last name and how stupid I was in my youth not to think it would matter someday), I would most certainly not be here (and using his image in a collaborative collage.) More than anything, this fact has always given me pause to ponder the random obstacles that could have stood in the way of my winning the lottery of being born to this world.
So what is left behind here is the story, one that I wish I could hear from the original source. I’ve placed him behind the veil – to add to the mystery and obfuscation of the photo.
Jody Berns, November 17, 2025
Marcie Simon’s Collage:
I have been given a special gift of reuniting with someone I was friends with in my youth. We connected with a love of “arts and crafts” at age 4. In our early life, we were inseparable. So I worked on Marcie’s collage with the appreciation for our early life together. She sent me a picture of us together in front of the house her grandfather designed, so I included it in the collage. Our mothers were both career artists. So, I included a fashion illustration from that time in my mother’s life. An old photograph that connected my granddaughter and grandmother through the magic of today’s technology, is how I am connecting my past and my future beyond me. And at the top, I put a picture of my oldest granddaughter, who is now a decade older than when I took the photo. Our many times at the park she at in MN is something she doesn’t remember anymore… A faded memory that is left behind.
I added to Leah’s collage…
I added eyes of the future peering out of the fire.
Marcie Simon, November 16, 2025
Marcie’s addition to Jody’s collage November 2025
My Mom was a talented and creative professional artist. As a sculptor she worked in many mediums, including lost wax cast bronze. I came across an invitation for a gallery exhibit featuring her bronze sculpture “Winged Spirit”. I included the image of her sculpture and part of the invitation here. I am deeply influenced by my Mom’s artistic achievements and proud to continue her legacy in this collage. A personal inclusion is a single earring I remember purchasing at the San Francisco De Young Museum. (where is the mate?).
On the strings I added two rhinestone clip style earrings I found in a bag of similar stuff.
Collage originator Ann Houde. third contributor Marcie Simon.
Books and reading are integral to my daily life for as long as I can recall. Call me “old fashioned,” I enjoy the pleasure of holding a real book, first flipping to the author photo and bio; turning pages, imagining the characters and locations. As such, I am a frequent library patron.
How are libraries evolving to be relevant in today’s world with everything fingertip accessible online, on a screen, not to be “left behind?”
From a young age my Mom took me to the local library, then housed in a storefront. When our town built a new modern library downtown, I relished Saturday visits to this wondrous building. Wherever I have lived, library visits are part of my life. From an old English Tudor style to contemporary multi-story structures. One showcases a thought-provoking art collection among the shelves, with a reading nook by a fireplace; Another is a library and learning center; With a welcoming teen center, conference rooms and auditorium. These libraries are attuned to community engagement, designed for relevancy and not to be left behind.
Jamie Buzil, November 6, 2025 @ 4:23 PM
2nd pass for Marcie Simons collage : As I reflect on what will remain for my children when I am no longer here, I am reminded of the threads of history and legacy that bind us. For this collaborative collage project, I have added several personal elements that speak to both the passing of time and the lasting connections we share across generations.
Included are photos of my parents and my youngest son, who recently married wearing my mother and grandmother’s ring—a precious generational gift that I hope will continue to be passed down through the years. Alongside this, I’ve included a cherished recipe from my great aunt, one of the best bakers of her time, and my grandmother’s egg beater, an object that has moved through the generations. My mother owned it, and now I do. Each time I use it, I feel a deep connection to the past. I wonder, when my time comes, will it travel to one of my children’s homes, carrying with it memories of our shared history?
Finally, I’ve included a piece of my own artwork. I want to leave a legacy of beauty—something that transcends time and speaks to the heart. My hope is that my art will be passed down and shared with others, spreading beauty and joy to all who wish to receive it. This collage is not just about what is left behind, but what continues to live on in the love, memories, and creations we share.
3rd pass of Leah Sosewitz’s collage: I am deeply troubled by the current state of our world and the environment, feeling a profound sense of grief over the damage we have caused. As an avid gardener, I have witnessed firsthand the destructive impact of harmful chemicals and poor agricultural practices on our ecosystems—affecting everything from flowers and crops to pollinators like bees and insects. I’ve also seen the slow but hopeful process of healing in my own soil, which has rejuvenated over time.
Yet, despite this devastation, I hold a deep trust in the resilience of Mother Nature. I have borne witness to her ability to regenerate and thrive, even in the face of humanity’s harm. In this piece, I have included the Lahaina Banyan tree, both in the wake of the recent wildfires and in its remarkable recovery. This tree, with its steadfast survival and regrowth, serves as a powerful symbol of hope, reminding us that even after devastation, nature has the capacity to heal and renew.
Leah Sosewitz, October 28, 2025
A few months ago, my eldest first cousin, Danny, passed away in Israel after a few years of being cared for on the kibbutz in the Upper Galilee where he grew up, for dementia. He was an artistic sort, a dreamer, a writer, with a goofy sense of humor and lots of ideas. He was divorced, with two children and an ex wife with whom he had a very peaceful relationship. He traveled the world voraciously, despite an evident lack of funds. He wrote two books, one in 2003 of “short stories” and the second, with the help of his devoted caregiver, musings on his dreams, memories and thoughts, guided by his dementia as a way to maintain a quality of life, a purpose. Those books are self published, both in Hebrew (a language I can read and write but without fluency) and so I never thought I’d be able to read them, but with google translate/google lens, I’ve been reading page by page from both books and getting to know my cousin in ways I never did during our infrequent, short visits back and forth. He was so much more than my impressions of him, certainly affected by family opinions of who he was.
Here, I’ve made a memorial to his memory with a pressed flower since I could not be there to place one on his grave and a snippet of his latest book, in the form of a bird, which shows us the true unfiltered state of his mind as he declined. He’s been “left behind” as time imposes it’s onward march, but oddly, I’m getting to know him more fully now. The bird represents a spiritual connection, a link between the earthly and whatever may be beyond, even if that is only in the hearts and minds of those he left behind.
Jody Berns, October 8, 2025
I added to Jamie’s collage: I was intrigued by the veil which looked like a sheer curtain looking through a window. I added a woman… who could be a woman in the past, as she is adorned with jewelry, gloves, and a hat of my mother and grandmother. I love that I can use items from my mother for my current art as she will always be a part of that aspect of my life.
Anne Houde, October 7, 2025
Anne’s addition to Jody’s collage start (to be delivered soon)
I have added four “objects left behind”. A few of the things left to me by people who have passed away are very precious, but I was curious if I could find some things that are truly left behind and not much appreciated for their memories. So I found two pins (they are not fancy enough to be called brooches), one from my mother-in-law, one from my mother. Neither one sparks any memory for me, nor am I likely to wear either one. The golden sun is kinda fun, and seems well worn. The intricate frame with a bow is very old-fashioned and not very charming to me—I never saw it before my mother passed, so I am happy to leave it behind too. I used the frame pin to attach a fragment of a handkerchief that I think was mine, but its significance and origin are left behind. Finally, a small copy of page 889 from my “spy notebook” (remember Harriet the Spy?), dated 1/5/72. It is clearly not left behind since I still have all of those pages; what is left behind is childhood, the daily connection with my best friend Alison, and our shared love of books. Those memories are not left behind!
Leah Sosewitz, October 6, 2025
I’ve added a cozy reading chair with a marble bust of a woman from another century and above her head, two hummingbirds pointing their long beaks towards an old volume entitled “How to Study Plants”. I’ve recently been reading statistics that point to younger generations’ inability to read books for pleasure, and even for academic requirements. Apparently, young people used to read 7 or more books a year for pleasure. They now do not report even being able to read one. I imagine this includes the digital formats as well. It saddens me to think of them all missing the extreme enjoyment I have felt since young adulthood in losing myself in a physical book, having images play out in my head, an escape to places far and wide, inside the heads of people real and imagined. So, I fear that along with the loss of the joy and beauty of a physical book, its weight, its paper quality and elegant fonts, and most of all, its content, that we are also losing the part of reading that sparks the imagination. The birds represent that imagery which is conjured from our heads as we take in the words of the writer but also, point to the way in which all man made environmental changes are altering the natural world as a whole, both human and non.
Jamie Buzil, October 1, 2025
Jamie’s collage, 1st pass : What is Left Behind
When I look around my home, I see pieces of my life that once belonged to loved ones. These objects—china, a spoon, a lamp, a photograph—are infused with memory. They carry the presence of family members who are no longer here, and they bring me joy because they are woven together with the moments we shared.
I often wonder: will my children cherish these objects as I have? Will they honor them as heirlooms and pass on the stories that give them life, or will they one day end up discarded, their history untold?
The lamp pictured in this piece is one such heirloom. It once sat on the breakfront in my grandmother’s dining room, where my papa always presided at the head of the table. I remember countless dinners there, surrounded by laughter and conversation. Many of those voices are gone now, but the lamp still casts a warm glow—a light that feels like memory itself.
Though the details fade, blurred at the edges of my mind, the feeling remains. The light continues to shine in my heart, reminding me of love, connection, and the importance of holding on. May the stories of our loved ones remain stitched together through these objects, binding generations, rather than unraveling into forgetfulness.
Marcie Simon, September 25, 2025
Leah’s collage first pass: 9/24/25 Marcie Simon, second contributor.
This world of global warming and climate disasters cannot be left to our heirs & future generations. As stewards of the Earth, all efforts must be taken to stop & reverse the “burning” Leah grieves.
Yes, in art there is “healing.” My imagery depicts our duty to conserve Earth’s forests, oceans and endangered wildlife.
I chose to wrap Earth in a protective cocoon.
Marcie Simon, September 23, 2025
I took a personal approach to this theme; What will be left for my son and his children
when I am no longer here. Heirlooms & jewelry? Personal memories of (my) grandparents,
including my Grandmothers’ sugar cookie recipe (a taste from childhood). Tell their stories.
Portfolios of artwork I created, and my career in design. The home designed by my Grandfather,
where I grew up, and the home where I raised my family. Lifetime treasured memories and history left behind.
Anne Houde, September 23, 2025
What is left behind: out of ink, out of print
Collage start by Anne Houde, delivered September 18, 2025
I am a lifelong nerd and retired professor so books have a special place in in my life. The small NYC apartment I grew up in had a book-lined entry hallway. When we learned my father didn’t have long to live I immediately thought: what will happen to the books? I have some of my parents’ books, including some my Dad inherited from his Uncle John, mixed in with many others that represent the story of my own life, or that I could not resist buying and keeping because they represent times past. I cherish their obsolescence, both in their content and also in how they were made, with ornamental covers and engraved illustrations. I also cherish old handwritten letters and other paper-based ephemera, but I try not to let much of that into my house!
But now, ink and paper are getting left behind as digital media and virtual content take their place. What will you add to my collage start as you contemplate what is happening to books and papers?
Leah Sosewitz, September 15, 2025
As a baby boomer approaching my 70th birthday, a lot of things preoccupy my mind lately – aging, history of friendships and family dynamics, accomplishments and regrets, who I was and who I am.
However, one nagging worry that doesn’t recede, is the world that I won’t be a part of but one which my children and grandchildren will – the world that I and my fellow boomers are leaving behind. Our collective choices have brought us to literally and figuratively begin to “burn it all down”. I’m opposed, vehemently, to this approach to correcting our insufficiencies as a nation. I voted against it and will continue to do so if my vote matters in the future. But in accepting the times in which we live, I must find an outlet for my disagreement. Protests, postcards, rallies and community where we can receive and give support are necessary. Art, as always, will be an important way to process all the emotions.
This is the beginning of a collage born of worry and grief. Feel free to let your feelings expand on it.
Jody Berns, September 12, 2025
We all met in late August via Zoom to decide a theme… What is Left Behind. So each originator can take this in what ever direction they want.
I chose Objects Left Behind:
As we move through life, objects gather around us—first as tools of learning, growing and play, then as symbols of ambition, later as anchors of memory. With age, however, these belongings begin to slip away. Some are discarded, some forgotten, and others remain, holding a weight far greater than their physical form.
I have taken old images of objects left behind from when I first began exploring photography and weaved some into an old mat I have never used as it was intended, giving both new purpose. I ask that my collaborators take something old and give it new purpose weaving it or attaching it to this mat. In addition, I have strings I will hang at the end of this piece’s travels. I left an example of something I consider “left behind” on one of the strings. Add to it or start a new string. I will use all 5 of them when I get the piece back at the end.
