Every time I lose the plot of what I’m doing here, and start feeling like a shipping clerk in Northern California (which might sound great to you, I don’t know, and in fact sounds rather restful when put that way) something happens to remind me of what’s really going on here.
Today it’s a hatband from Rayo Boursier, and beadwork from Vee Pretorious.
I’d received a package from Vee in Scotland this weekend, and had just opened it last night; inside was a piece that combines a variety of ideas in the book, and riffs on them in ways that point up a Zigged Band here, a Fortuneteller here… Wings that almost want but in fact do not want to be decreased into Horns. In other words, it’s the sort of thing that makes my mind sing. I wrote to her immediately.
And then, this morning, she sent a photograph of a larger piece that she had made, and I could only think of music.
I saw this one and I could feel the smooth, strong structure, see the bridges, watch the ripple and dance of the sound as the exploration began. I could hear it, and I said, Mingus or Parker, she said Parker.
It’s so supreme when ideas that wave into shore in our minds find form, find expression, and then dance into being in someone else’s mind, and find form again, and then come to join with not only us but with everyone else who is having the same exploration.
The work speaks so much more elegantly than I ever could about the advantage of not boxing every idea into a pattern.
Jean said some interesting things this past week, most of which I’m still integrating. But a lot of them made the same wavepatterns in my head as what I hear when I look at Vee’s necklace.