#sifter

03-06-26 | misterlemonzlime.tumblr.com/archive

When our English teacher gave our first writing invitation of the year, Become a kitchen implement in 2 descriptive paragraphs, I did not think butcher knife or frying pan, I thought immediately of soft flour showering through the little holes of the sifter and the sifter's pleasing circular swishing sound, and wrote it down. Rhoda became a teaspoon, Roberto a funnel, Jim a muffin tin and Forrest a soup pot. We read our paragraphs out loud. Abby was a blender. Everyone laughed and acted giddy but the more we thought about it, we were all everything in the whole kitchen, drawers and drainers, singing teapot and grapefruit spoon with serrated edges, we were all the empty cup, the tray. This, said our teacher, is the beauty of metaphor. It opens doors. What I could not know then was how being a sifter would help me all year long. When bad days came I would close my eyes and feel them passing through the tiny holes. When good days came I would try to contain them gently the way flour remains in the sifter until you turn the handle. Time, time. I was a sweet sifter in time and no one ever knew.

Jane S. & me in Annecy, France, hitchhiking towards Avignon. Leslie was with us, and must have taken the picture. 1969 I think. I can't remember how we turned up in a boat. I think I said I knew how to drive a boat. I know how to drive a boat like I know how to fly a plane. Theoretically.

I remember that necklace - it was a stone I found on the beach that had a hole in it that I put on a chain and made up some story about its significance. I was kind of a crazy kid. I have this photo on flickr and someone contacted me about using this photo to promote a travel agency. What? Jane S. was/is a true New Yorker and taught me how to drive a car in Manhattan. Relentlessly.

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Naomi Shihab Nye: "Sifter" →

Hey y'all! It's been a solid sec since I've been here; I definitely had some life stuff going on, but we move, as Bri says. Here is another sneak of a thing; I think I'm almost done with it, just in the texture and finalization stage.

That being said, I'll have to figure out how to print it very soon, too! (It's a poster). If you have any knowledge on the best way to print digital art in a quality higher than inkjet and on nice paper, I would be happy to hear what you may know. This would allow me to print many of my works that have lived in digital format for their life entirely thus far, but they would be welcomed here on this ("this" meaning "the one this body is typing this message through") physical plane.

Lately I've been exploring and considering the following: natural inks for printing and dying; ancient Fertile Crescent culture and history up to and through the Persian Empire; the nature of empires; the nature of humans; how to grow vegetables out of pots in rental situations; that I need to allow myself to love those around me, because that is really all I have, and it is irreplaceable; that language is really the key to everything; and that I really miss living with a cat.

Heavy, real, but also light, and purposeful, things. It's been a time.