Sometimes, everything feels like a lot.
Your boss wants you to redo a presentation a few hours before the presentation; a hurricane is headed your way, and you're trying to prepare while your kids run or crawl around the house because school and daycare are closed. You're trying to get work prepped for an upcoming exhibition and need to figure out how to best transport a giant frame without breaking the glass. And to top it off, a bird is flying around your house, or is that one just me?
Did you feel your chest start to tighten as you read the list?
Unclench your jaw, drop your shoulders, and take a few deep breaths.
Sometimes, being a human can feel impossibly overwhelming, and when you don't think you have time to do anything other than push through your to-do list, you need to back off, feel your feelings, and slow down.
That's what I love about paper weaving. The repetition is soothing; it slows down my mind and my hands as I cut one strip, the next step, and the next until there is a satisfying pile of colorful paper strips. And then, I weave each strip, over, under, over, under. Maybe I'll like the result, or perhaps I won't, but that doesn't matter; it's the soothing nature of slow and repeated movement. It's the act of my eyes moving left to right, right to left, left to right. The pleasure of watching something grow, one row at a time, paper weaving is predictable and magical all at the same time.
As I watch the news and talk to friends in Florida, I think about how overwhelming it is. The prepping while still attempting to do your job and care for your kids. The processing of the stress. The cleanup and rebuilding from the impact. It's so much. I wish I could help them board their windows and pack their favorite things. Or play with their kids for a few hours but live too far away.
I think about walking the streets of Ashville, North Carolina, visiting local galleries, and taking in all the art. All that art is now covered in mud, ruined, washed away, and buried under the rubble. I wonder what I would do if my livelihood was washed away. I watch and think of the destruction that we've witnessed this year. Watch and think about the collective impact when humans band together for good when people use their imagination to create what doesn't even seem possible. I watch, and I cry. I watch, and I hope. I watch and wonder what we will do next.
A few years ago, I was taping cardboard over our front door window not to prepare for a storm but in response to the daily rocks thrown at the house and one that finally shattered the glass on the front door, the front door where I'd hear the jiggle of the doorknob testing the lock. I remember wanting nothing more than everyone to help us to make it stop, and one day, I looked out my bedroom window and saw neighbors around the house. I sat on the floor and cried. Someone else was going to carry the burden for that day. For a few hours, I was off duty. For a few hours, I felt safe. I think of that often, imagining all those who wish someone would show up to help carry the burden and give them a break.
Reading Tree Publishing was started as an outlet to fuel imagination, foster connection, and engage readers of all ages to be curious. Tuesday, Oct 8th through Sunday, Oct 20th, all proceeds from book sales will be donated to support the rebuild of the Village Potters Center in Ashville. Together, we can be like my former neighbors, show up, and carry the load. We can show up and say we see you and are here to help. This is an opportunity for us to join together and help other creatives rebuild. It's also the perfect opportunity to get ahead on your holiday shopping, expand your at-home library, or donate to your local school.
Purchasing two books will help the center purchase ceramics tools to create functional pottery, like your favorite mug from which you drink coffee each morning.
Buying four books will help them begin to rebuild their glaze collection. If you aren't familiar with ceramics, glaze adds color to pottery.
Buy 300 books, aka a set of books, to donate to a school so every student can add to or start their home library. It will help the center to purchase a new pottery wheel or slab roller.
Potters use pottery wheels to create bowls, mugs, and plates.
Slab Rollers flatten clay into even slabs to build functional and non-functional ceramic pieces.
When things change faster than we want them to or are ready for them to, we will react; the question is how? We can attempt to deny that the change is happening, admit defeat, sit back and watch another episode of Alone, or try to take control, but we all know how that goes, or we can respond.
Today, I told one of my friends that I wished I could control the incoming hurricane and push it back out to sea, but we all know that neither you nor I have that kind of power. But we do have the power to respond. While I'm presenting one way above to respond, if that's not what lights you up, I hope you take the time to reflect and think about a meaningful response because I promise you have something to offer.
One of my favorite things about artists is that they always find ways to respond. They're responding to the world, the materials in front of them, and the magical imagination unique to each creator. Artists show us how to respond and take the most challenging things and turn them into something beautiful and meaningful.
Mark Bradford uses found objects and materials at home supply stores and creates massive works of art that challenge social and political issues. At the surface level, his work reminds me of textiles, and as you look closer and closer, you'll uncover layer upon layer of paper and colors and see the message unravel as you understand the context of the work.
Ed Fairburn combines maps with drawing portraits, revealing stories of a sense of place and how one informs the other until they become the same. He carefully responds to the lines and topography on the map before drawing the lines that eventually form the portrait.
How will you respond and make a positive impact today?