artwork – To All My Strangers

Hello Strangers,

I am so sleepy, but this seemed like a good way to end the day. I’ve been meaning to come back on here for a while and time just keeps getting away from me. The pictures above are of a project I’m working on which is about houses and this woman who is obsessed with them. For my birthday, Henry got me a glass dip pen, ink, and a book I can bind myself, and I finally began using it the other day. I try to draw when I have energy or am too awake, because the strokes and scrumbles are very meditative for me and it fills me with quiet that I’m often lacking. I’ll have to come back here soon and do a post specifically on the pen and drawings.

But today was a very good day. I talked to three friends, and I put away a large pile of laundry on the floor, washed the bedding, and put in a load of towels after that.

Every time I’ve asked Henry to take care of a spider in recent months, he has gone and found a piece of paper and a cup and relocated them, even if they were especially squirrely. I tell him it’s sweet of him, and he just says it’s never sat right with him to kill a spider after he read that poem that ends,

“If I am killed for simply living, let death be kinder than man.”

So, this evening when I was on my phone call and saw a sharp, spindly little creature racketing around my laundry closet, I told my friend offhandedly,

“One second, I have to kill this spider.”

And as I was looking for something to wack it with, I poked my head out to ask Henry to kill it for me, and I remembered that he doesn’t like to kill spiders. And then I remembered the poem. Then I remembered that I don’t like to kill spiders. And so she gets to live in the wash room until she meets her natural end. It’s only fair. I always thought that poem was beautiful, and it broke my heart but for some reason, it wasn’t until I watched someone live it out that I found it in myself to do the same.

A little bit later we went to our favorite restaurant and talked about the art our friends make; one makes impressive, beautiful paintings, the other makes photography with skill I can only aspire to. She got a new camera with 120 mm film, as opposed to her usual 35 mm film. I’m really looking forward to seeing what each of them make this year.

I paid this time, he often does, and when we got in the truck we broke our cookies and read our fortunes. He should be open to adventure on Wednesday, and my night will be filled with connection and love.

He’s in the other room working on an exam, and I’m here, doing chores and writing this letter. And my night is indeed filled with connection, and love.

Here’s hoping some of it gets to you,

—Mabel

Oh, P.S., the poem is “Kinder Than Man” by Althea Davis.

Hello Strangers,

In honor or earth day, my dream this week is to one day teach a community art class using unwanted things. As you may have noticed, many of my dreams involve the use of junk. When I was a teenager, I used to cut cardboard from cereal boxes to make book covers and canvases. Cardboard has a tendency to “drink” paint; it sucks the pigment and the liquid into its surface, but! It was far better to paint on than printer paper, or even low weight art paper. If it hadn’t been for those makeshift canvases, I never would have picked up acrylic painting, and if I’d never done that, I would never have found gouache.

In the future, I have all kinds of projects planned that I genuinely believe will be beautiful. New paper made from old phone books, handmade journals, faux stained glass, mixed media master’s studies, pendants with paintings inside pressed flower water bottles and lanterns…There’s a million things that have been made by more creative people than me, and they’re easy to find. Just type ‘plastic art’ into Pinterest, and you’ll find incredible things.

But the other thing I’d like to say about these second hand DIYs is that the power of children’s imagination cannot be understated. Little girls of seven years old have more complex weaving skills than many adults because they’ve been braiding hair and making friendship bracelets since they were in preschool. There are still some little boys who paint model cars with their fathers, and a significant amount of children I’ve found are fascinated by intricate geometric patterns.

My hope is that by the time I have the option to teach a community class, I will know how to incorporate the knowledge of that community into the curriculum. How beautiful would it be if entire towns of people returned to a system of creation? Everything from rebuilding engines and building tables from scratch, to making windchimes and decorative stepping stones, to making rugs and wallhangings? Think about the sense of pride in that place, knowing the craftsmanship involved in every little thing. I hope to one day have an art truck with a frog holding a paintbrush on it. I’d drive it around and give lessons to anyone who wanted one.

Happy Scrapping, Strangers.

–Mabel

Tag: artwork

Tonight’s Chinese Fortune

Small Dream Saturday, Entry 11