….Into DIY. Just kidding-kind of.
I want to address a subject near and dear to all of us lately. And that is how an artist (or anyone) uses small things as coping mechanisms to affect their behavior and daily life during all the media onslaught of political, racial and virus quarantine information. Me, I am painting, gardening, and enjoying my flowers. Not necessarily in that order. Does it always work,
No. But it does help.
This weekend I painted a window that is the door to a project which has taken a long while to find and gather together. It is my mini-greenhouse.
I am finding it interesting that both gardening and flowers seem to be making a lot more people than just me, more content and happier during the daily shit storm of issues we’re experiencing in 2020.
I’ve lately given myself the nickname #TheAsthmaticGardener on my personal Instagram page-Pretty catchy, huh? I say, that whatever works to get us through these crazy days of quarantine, mask/no mask, frightening us all half out of our wits is something we all have to strive for and work on right now. These stressful days are filled with so much political and race vitriol that is is both heartbreaking and exhausting. So find something (Or several things) you enjoy and embrace them as opportunities and moments of joy. Any day we can avoid descending into the emotional upheaval is one more day we gain back for ourselves.
In closing, I found both the aria and the quote, from a book that I haven’t read (yet), seem to work with today’s post. Each for a different, but relative reasons.
“She wore flowers in her hair and carried magic secrets in her eyes. She spoke to no one. She spent hours on the riverbank. She smoked cigarettes and had midnight swims…”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small ThingsGoodreads.com
THE FLOWER DUET-Aria from Lakme -
Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
With the roses entwined together
On the river bank covered with flowers laughing in the morning
Let us descend together!
Gently floating on its charming risings,
On the river’s current
On the shining waves,
One hand reaches,
Reaches for the bank,
Where the spring sleeps,
And the bird, the bird sings.
Until next time. Peace,