Water, is taught by thirst (work in progress)

This title comes from Emily Dickinson's poem, Water, is taught by thirst.

Water, is taught by thirst.

Land—by the Oceans passed.

Transport by throe-

Peace—by its battles told—

Love, by Memorial Mold—

Birds, by the Snow.

Emily Dickinson's poem reminds me that we humans only miss the presence of important things in our lives after their absence. Water, land, transport, peace, love, and birds—they're not just necessary, but also vital to our well beings. Birds seem random here after water, land, transport, peace and love, but it reminded me of the first chapter of Rachel Carson's book, "Silent Spring." When our environment is polluted, small creatures are the first to disappear. If birds are not singing in the forest and fish is not swimming in the rivers, you know there's something terribly wrong with the environment.

Water, is taught by thirst is my continuing exploration on the water issues from many aspects.

Central Adirondacks, upstate New York
24"x 36" Laser cut white paper on paper.

Detail

Central Florida
Laser cut pieces (tea-stained paper) on paper

Meet my new typewriter: Silver Reed

I found this lovely yellow portable typewriter at a flea market in Berlin. I wasn't sure if it would fit in the basket of my newly acquired used bike. I wasn't even sure how I was going to bring it back all the way to U.S. either. But I fell in love at first sight. So, I bought it. The typewriter fit perfectly in the basket of my bike. Once I got back to my place, I set out to type.

I typed every morning. It was a fun ritual. I typed what I did for exercise in red, and what I consumed in black for every single day during my stay in Berlin.

I brought it back to the U.S. in my suitcase. It's a portable typewriter after all - nice and "light."

I did a quick research on this typewriter, and found out that Silver Reed typewriters were made in Japan! The company is called Marukoshi Knitting Machines Ltd, founded in the early 1950s. They still make knitting machines. The font is called techno pica font.

Clean, dewey, new morning mind

I have another memorable quote from my friend, Gregg.

This is his response to my email about my day. 

I think you should only think about art in the morning because your mind is clean from sleep. Save the articles that make you cry for later in the day when your mind has accumulated the many and varied dusty thoughts of the day. Read about art or artists, watch a YouTube video about art or mindlessly draw for the joy of it. 

But no Harpers or newspapers or news, nothing influential except yourself.  Then go work for a couple hours, nice and clean.  After that, do whatever you want.

Clean, dewey, new, morning mind.  Now with fresh pine scent!

This morning, I didn't read. I had a breakfast in my studio. Clean, dewey, new morning mind with coffee. It's really blessing to spend time like this in the morning.

That was what I was doing every morning while I was in Berlin last month. My morning ritual was typing and looking at work while I had my coffee.

Goat Head

“Please remember that if something were to come crashing down on you, it would not faze you. You have Goat Head, strong and able to bust thru walls.
Don't forget Goat Mouth either.  The ability to eat tin cans.” – Gregg Woolard

It made me feel like one with these strong and beautiful horns. A beautiful goat head. I can burst through anything.

I wanted to share these words from my friend, Gregg. His email made me smile. 

Gregg attached this photo too.

* * * * * * * 

Three weeks ago, my car got hit while it was parked at work. It was quite a bit of damage, and my car wasn't drivable that night. It took three weeks to get it fixed. I finally got my car back last night. And the same night, I found my track lights falling off from the ceiling in the studio. Both incidents could've been worse if I was present, but I wasn't. In yoga, we practice to be present in that moment, but boy, am I glad that I wasn't present in those moments! Changing the perspective makes a huge difference on these recent incidents.

I have a Goat Head, strong and able to bus through walls. Not sure about eating tin cans, but when the time comes I'll test my strong teeth too. 

The entire track lights fell off from the ceiling. It's now all fixed.

For Valentines from Boston

These are the early days in our relationship with snow. Beautiful lights on the new white snow, making my own tracks with snowshoes, children laughing as they sled down the hill, and following the tracks of little creatures in the woods.

It was perfect. Beautiful wintery love.

Now, that's over. With the Valentines approaching, the City of Boston writes a breakup letter to snow. We cannot wait for Mr. Spring.

Dear Snow,

I could say “it’s not you, it’s me,” but that would be the biggest lie I’ve told since I promised the British they wouldn’t get shot at if they showed up by sea. It is you. It’s 100 percent you. But it wasn’t always you. Things started off so well between us; you were so novel, so beautiful, so calming and clean when we met. Remember how exciting… read more.

What is your relationship with water? Part III

Several people purchased these sheets at the opening for Weathering Art exhibition. I was really excited.

This was one of the questions that I wanted to ask people in the questionnaire and gather their responses. When I told my friend, Gregg about my idea, he had another thought and told me this;

“The questions you poised in your form might be good for you to ask yourself as a precursor to forming the work. Come up with 20 more questions about water. Is water alive? Why is it clear and blue? How do we learn to swim? Why is there so much water? Etc.”

He also said, “If you are going to challenge the viewer, might as well go ahead and challenge yourself too. Take a risk, go out on a limb. Jump in feet first. Action Goat!” (I am a goat, born in the year of sheep, but he calls me goat.)

So, I took his advice literally first, and started typing this simple question to ask myself as a starting point. Then, I found a well of water that was flowing at the bottom of it if there was such a thing in the question.

I realized that this is not a kind of question that I would find an answer or two and quickly move on, nor it’s something that I would just get my feet wet, hop out and shaking it off, and done. No, I would have to put myself deep in that well. (But don’t sink!) And I have to wait and see what I would find in there.

These typed sheets are for sale for fundraising.
At the Weathering Art opening.

It is such a simple question, indeed.

I am a bit nervous about showing this work in public at such an early stage. 

Just as what Gregg said, “Jump in feet first.”  So I do, and hopefully I'll slowly soak my body in this simple question and see what happens.

Snow day in the studio

Blizzard outside. Snow day in the studio - staining Japanese papers with tea and coffee, painting and typing.

I'm being more playful with staining action, but I can't help thinking about the flood I had about a year ago when I see the sheets of wet papers on the floor. I like the edges of the stain on the paper. I see lots of ripples and terrains. 

I started applying mineral pigment on the sheets when they're dry. Sometimes I drip or splash the pigment. 

Being playful. 

Typing the same question helps me to meditate on the meaning, thinking about what it means to have a good relationship with water. And clearly, flood is not one of those good relationships. And polluting and contaminating water is an abusive relationship. 

Outside I see lots of snow. And I think about the glaciers, and think about all the snow up on the mountains. And I think about the arrival of spring though it does seem far away right now, but it will come eventually - snow melting, and water running through the streams from mountains.