Last night, needing to re-center, I took to the kitchen table with a basket of supplies, some papers, and a postal service envelope. Inspired by the videos of Traci Bautista I saw on Hannah's site, I grabbed a foam brush and began laying down papers.
There's something comforting in the mindless work of patchwork collage. In just letting the mind float high above the world, lingering, relaxing in a hammock made of air. Cut, glue, rip, glue, smooth, glue.
But doing it so publicly, that is, not in my studio, attracts attention. As I'm usually shrugged off, I was surprised to hear my brother say he's like to make a collage, too!
So we sat next to each other and continued. Except he wanted a certain shape. "I have to make something," he said, gluing it down, "that's what my teachers told me."
"Well, it's a lie," I told him. "We're just laying down paper. Don't worry about any of that, now."
"Why do you go against what teachers say?" he asked.
"Because I want to do what makes me happy," I replied.
And so we glued and tore and I could see how difficult it was for him to let go of what school and teachers had said and just let things happen. At so many points, I wanted to reach over and show him how to make it "better." But Kira, I told myself, maybe that's how he likes it.
Later on, when trying to figure out where a piece fit, he frowned. "I don't want to cover up the star. Maybe I shouldn't have done that first."
"Oh, well," I said. "Just cover it up. Never be afraid to cover something; you never know what good stuff may come from doing that."
So we collaged and then played with paint and wrote with Sharpies. At the end of the night, he had something he liked. Standing, he held it out, "I can't believe I made this."
"See? Isn't art relaxing?"
"I feel like I've accomplished something."
That is where we want to go, to that place of amazement, of seeing something beautiful come from our own hands and a pile of paper. That sense of accomplishing something wonderful -- not an item on our to-do lists or task at work, but something original and part of ourselves. Art brings us to such a place.
But the struggle, oh, the struggle! How I wished I could take those lessons from his head and let him play from the heart. A few years ago, I was offered a job teaching art to children after school, but upon seeing how they had to copy a picture, do exactly the same thing, with no freedom to go outside the lines, I declined. Why do we have to teach children this way? What happened to wild abandon?
This all reminds me of a song by Harry Chapin. Think on this when you feel blocked, when you feel those lines -- lines you MUST break free of.
The little boy went first day of school
He got some crayons and started to draw
He put colors all over the paper
For colors was what he saw
And the teacher said.. What you doin' young man
I'm paintin' flowers he said
She said... It's not the time for art young man
And anyway flowers are green and red
There's a time for everything young man
And a way it should be done
You've got to show concern for everyone else
For you're not the only one
And she said...
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen
But the little boy said...
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one
Well the teacher said.. You're sassy
There's ways that things should be
And you'll paint flowers the way they are
So repeat after me.....
And she said...
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen
But the little boy said...
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one
The teacher put him in a corner
She said.. It's for your own good..
And you won't come out 'til you get it right
And all responding like you should
Well finally he got lonely
Frightened thoughts filled his head
And he went up to the teacher
And this is what he said.. and he said
Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen
Time went by like it always does
And they moved to another town
And the little boy went to another school
And this is what he found
The teacher there was smilin'
She said...Painting should be fun
And there are so many colors in a flower
So let's use every one
But that little boy painted flowers
In neat rows of green and red
And when the teacher asked him why
This is what he said.. and he said
Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There's no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen.
I believe in you. You can do it, and create beautiful, wonderful, amazing flowers. I give you permission to do so, to create whatever makes you happy, no matter how "wrong" it may be.