Observables #19
on an experiment in milkweed and big love for ugly art
A milk weed pod. All of us in different ways. Simon and Violet are staring at it in order to draw it. I am watching them watch it, perhaps even more moved by their act of connection, than the pod itself.
Although… the pods can get me excited. In a moment of inspiration I pulled my sister out to the ditch this weekend and made her plant the seeds from some dead pods with me. Our planting did not occur in the sunshine of these pictures. We did it in the evening when it was starting to rain, so it felt a little like being on King Lear’s heath. I opened up the pods and spread the seeds and then we madly grabbed at piles of leaves to keep them from blowing away. It didn’t look at all crazy, even when I tripped over the rake just at the moment our neighbour passed in his pick up. Nat added water to “weigh them down,” which delighted me because it’s literally my favourite thing when someone goes along with my idea and then ADDS to it, then I added hay. Nobody would tell me precisely if hay was the right move. So I had to dig deep and make a decision. Yes, to a thin layer of hay. Amen. If the experiment works, I can affirm that God is on my side.
Violet will no doubt save the milkweed pods she collected because she saves everything. She’s a self-professed hoarder when it comes to scrubby pieces of bubble wrap, interesting sticks she found on a walk, a lone burgundy leaf, a stray marble, all kinds of small boxes (joy!), the small plastic bags from Halloween filled with a strange collection of candies that a kindhearted person put together—they will come in handy one day when she needs baby bags for something—leftover fabric from Simon’s shorts that we cut up to make Elsie’s snail costume, MILK WEED PODS…more than one. You see what I mean. Our house is filled with bits. I used to run around behind her saying, “Are you done with this? Surely, you are done with this?” to which she would always reply as if she were speaking to a dimwit for a mother,“I need that.”
I can also be a bit of a hoarder, especially when it comes to my children’s art work. The one with Violet’s empty candy wrappers is particularly precious to me these days—it’s really an installation piece whose beauty is not obvious at first glance. For a while I had it taped to the wall beside my desk and I would positively ache every time I looked at it.
Ache because it was so ugly. If I didn’t have the eyes to see. On those days I was always tempted to crumple it up (and maybe I did…once). Because I only wanted beautiful things beside my work station, since beautiful creations were/are my job. I hated myself for being so narrow.
But then on the other days, when my vision was righted, I loved this collection of glued candy wrappers so so much. I didn’t even have to work at it. I just loved it with abandon, seeing immediately what my daughter saw: a work of genius. I wanted to eat it, consume it, absorb it through my skin (if that was an option). I don’t always know what to do with the big love I feel.
What do you do when you love something so much? I implore you for an answer.
This week’s Sister On! is about reframing New Year’s resolutions to something a little more poetic. We don’t do simple. Please listen and tell your friends about these weird sisters and their weekly conversations.