Julia has a special love for her purple car seat and purple kitchen chair. Consequently, so does Boris. This leaves them both battling quite often about who gets to plop who’s bum into what location.
When we first got married, Ferdinand shirts were 90% in shades of blue.
One day I noticed that every accent in my kitchen was bright orange.
A friend recently told me that my outfits often match my subtly changing colors of fading hair dye.
Sometimes, I realize our whole family is in slightly coordinating outfits.
My thought is this: Why do we love to match things so much? Or, just as satisfying but equally influenced by coordination, why do we love to purposefully NOT match things at times? Colors, textures, patterns etc. There are plenty of artistic guidelines explaining how to do this and that it gives basic visual interest to art/surroundings. But feeling ever analytical, I think there are funner ways to look at it.
Are we just trying to erase ourselves into our surroundings? That’s the main fun I think. Don’t children belong as synonymous with the universe until they learn the language of identity (can someone guide me to who has spoken about this?)? Maybe we still crave that.
The terrifying but brilliant Japanese manga series by Junji Ito “Uzumaki”, hits on this Taoistic point so well. In all of it’s terror and beauty, what would it feel like if the world melded and meshed and everything became so intertwined with all of the other things that in the end, it was a perfect whole?
Is that what we seek with color? What is so immensely satisfying when I accidentally match my couch, or match my son, or find my shirt and shoes vibrating with color next to the coordinating flower patch I jog past? Is it because it resonates with some universal sense of beauty? Surely yes! But also maybe it makes me feel more like the things around me, and I like that!
Lately we have started sleeping on the floor. Ferdinand has aches and pains in his back and I have been wanting to try it for a long time, so it has worked out well. But on this point I have noticed how nice it is to lay down on the hard ground of a home. It makes my body feel heavier - like a rock instead of like a cloud. Not a great mattress commercial, but there is something satisfying about that. After the initial first week of getting used to it, now I sleep deeply and hardly move. In the night I am just part of the dark and quiet ground. Imagining romantically that I must feel very much like a reindeer in the forest sleeping on grass.
How badly do we want to connect and blend with our environment and become part of it - something so simple to do in nature but that we spend much time and energy on in the artificial structure of our modern lives and homes to avoid or make it difficult? Ray Bradbury includes a few short stories in "The Martian Chronicles" that illustrate this perfectly. How would we treat a new planet - like Mars? He supposes we would go on living the exact same. Taking plastic houses from one place to the next, never really soaking in where we are or what is happening around us.
At the end of the day, or this blog today, I surmise that we are always looking to be truly satisfied by feeling infinite - feeling like we melt into something more permanent than ourselves. Having children. Melding life with color. Being rained on very suddenly by a passing cloud. Buried in sand at the beach. Disappearing into cyberspace identities mishmashed with everyone else's and more.
This all makes me feel equal parts nervous and strange and delighted and peaceful, like that feeling when you stare too long at the stars and the wind is cold in your hair.
In further news, I recently finished my first mini children’s book of mini poems “There is a Wereworm in My Closet”. It is ten pages long and I printed it at Fedex on Cardstock then bound them myself. In a miracle of miracles I sold all the copies the very morning I put them up for sale! Just sent them off two days ago. Really astounded and glad about it - hopefully it can spread some chuckles. It has been so freeing for me to commit/admit myself into art that is more humorous and child-centric. I did get into illustration for this very reason, but as any young adult, I spent so many years in self doubt and experimentation that were necessary. Working on a body of paintings right now that are based on a brief story line of an old woman named “Fennolene”. I will probably be working on that this winter and sharing updates :) I’ll share a few sketches that will soon be up for sale on my website and happen to match the pictures of me and my couch today. I expect nothing less! I've been practicing guitar and Spanish. Working slowly through two Pigimichi songs. Listening to a lot more Talking Heads than ever in my life. Life moves on, and we all need more sleep. Have a great night sweet reader!