One day, in Oregon, we made collages.
It was all because of Kelly Rae, who shared both her artistic process and her giant suitcase of cool collage stuff (like vintage letters, postcards, ledgers, envelopes, stamps, sheet music) with us.
When I saw the paints and canvases come out, and when I realized what we were about to do, I could barely wait to get my hands on all those beautiful old things in Kelly Rae’s suitcase. And I’d brought along an old LIFE magazine, too, just in case it might come in handy. So we added it to the pile.
And so I spent the whole afternoon on the floor in the sunlight with a breeze blowing through the window making a collage. And I was reminded of something I used to know: I love to make art. And the process of working on something visual–something that might have words in it but is not ONLY words–makes me feel absolutely blissed out.
I’d really forgotten how good it felt.
I came home from Oregon swearing to myself that I was going to find more time to make things with my hands. And I really hope I will. But I also know very well that there are only so many hours in the day. I can’t guarantee that making art, as good as it feels, will make the cut in my daily life any more than other good things (like dancing, and singing, and massages, and walking, and sleeping) do.
But I sure am grateful I got to have that day by the beach. It’s left a little sunshine-y place in my heart. And I thank Kelly Rae for taking me there every time I look at my collage up on the wall. And I absolutely cannot wait to get back.