I told a friend that I would help her come up with a logo for her business. I have an idea of what she wants, and I thought I'd surprise her with a linocut. And then I got all excited and had to run to the art supply store right then, even though dinner wasn't made and my dad is coming in two days and the house isn't clean.
Loon and I were talking the other day about the role that creativity has in our lives. It has a restorative function that I somehow forget about. Then I get a chance to make something with my own two hands, and damn if it isn't fun. Not that my life is grim. Far from it. It's just that I don't often have the space in a day to make things. I think that this family is going to have to change that.
Simon likes photography, and printing, and has taken all sorts of art classes. I think we'll have to find the space for him to do some of that. It just makes your life go by smoother when you get to spend some happy time making a thing. I suppose it keeps you from cackling.
Of course, today I was thwarted. The only art supply store around here is Michaels, or so I was told. Michaels thinks that two blocks of rubber and a brayer constitute a selection of "Block printing supplies" that are worthy of their own sign on the aisle. So. Called an artist friend who said there was someplace else to try in town. If that doesn't work, I'll have to go online, but what I really want to do right now is feel the satisfying slip of the knife through the linoleum. I want the glee that comes when you watch a piece of art being born in your very hands. The surprise of meeting it- the unexpected beauty it has, even though it was your idea and you're the creator.
I'll just have to wait.
Waily waily,
ephelba
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