It was an everything kind of weekend: my birthday, our annual Hanukkah party, a writing workshop I was leading for people with serious illness, and art-making, and the weekend played out along the lines of my extrovert-behaving introvert-trying-to-get-in-ways.
On Saturday, I celebrated my birthday by sleeping late, drinking coffee in the bathtub (as usual), and then marbling paper with Kris for hours. Marbling, something I never did before, is an amazing art: you basically drop colors onto water (thickened with cornstarch), and swirl without blending the colors, then lay paper onto the surface of the liquid, lift it up again, and voila! You have marbled paper. It’s an art made of time (how fast you add color is huge — too long, and the color disperses), chemical interaction (some colors disperse faster or slower), and especially mystery. I loved the quiet and meditative nature of playing on the surface of water.
Today was a turned-out day — I ended up driving home from leading a writing workshop in Kansas City for people living with serious illness to stand over the frying pan next to Carmel, 17-year-old genius, sweetheart and pal, to fry latkes, but not before taking the long way home. Not so much on purpose, but maybe so, I ended up driving about fifteen minutes out of my way in the rural stretches between Kansas City and through southern Douglas County, watching the Wabi Sabi beauty of the wintering world at twilight. I carried peace from the courage and beauty of what the people in the writing workshop created, and love for the friends who would soon be heading over to our house to eat and visit.
Some latkes and other delights later, I’m sitting in the shining quiet of this bedroom, our mostly-mean cat actually being kind at the the moment as she blinks her eyes at me and doesn’t threatened to run or attack. Whoever I am is happy.