the new change has turned out to be fully fleshed, luminous and brilliant. so often, such shifts in routine, lifestyle or space seem to be brittle on the onset. there is a kind of disbelief that breeds tentative movements and a kind of contrived preciousness in handling. i am pleased to learn, as i get up each day to stoop down to ruffle tiny braids and straighten snowclothes, that working with the very small to entrust the language of visual aptitude has been only the best of new things.
this monday i set about organizing cabinets (the wealth of strange craft materials is astounding), making up fresh playdough (flour + salt + water + liquid watercolor), making a frenchpress of coffee and experimenting with my rather rusty dusty fingerpainting skills.
it is an interesting way of walking the land to look backwards for those tactile crafts and explorations that have stuck with us for so long. for instance, i have the fondest memories of oil pastel and black tempera scratchboard, homemade silly putty, gloop (that strange neither-solid-nor-liquid concoction of cornstarch and water), life size traceable self portraits, the hovery, bleedy hues of rainbow craft tissue...and now my objective after i make coffee and fold my creaking self into tiny chairs every morning is to pass that tactile joy on to the iPad, minivan theatre system, Go-gurt, and tiny rhinestone emblazoned Toms generation.
and they make beautiful things, nevertheless.
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