I discovered in action 4, that I was not satisfied with the definition of making, or the role of the designer as a maker. That language shapes the way we perceive the world and the way we act within our understanding, and so I began to redefine the terms of what a designer does. This week I began to explore what it would look like to act out those words.
Caring for
It’s that time of year, the weather is cooling off, and it is time to get the plants back inside before the first frost. During the transition time I like to give the plants a re-set. I look for bugs or disease and try to treat it or trim it out. I give the leaves a nice shower, and sponge them down. removing any dirt or build up, and I like to repot them, washing each pot as I go, giving them fresh soil. Nomi loves to hang around when I am working with the plants. I think she likes the sounds and the smells. She also prefers to drink water from the saucer instead of from any of her water dishes.
Repairing
Next, I tried out the action/word repairing, I took a pot I broke the day before, and got some aquarium safe epoxy from the hardware store, and tried to put the pot back together. It reminded me, and everyone I showed, of the Japanese technique of Kintsugi. I was really happy with the aesthetic of the repair. I also enjoyed working with the epoxy putty, even though the smell reminded me of burnt hair, and it was sticking to my fingernails, I was afraid to eat chips after because the epoxy residue might mix with the chip flavour and come off in my mouth. But, I wasn’t sure if the pot needed repairing. If I had disrupted the life cycle of a pot by putting it back together again. I can’t communicate with pots. Did I take away its autonomy by assuming the pot wanted to hold soil and roots and moisture once again? Nomi was pretty fascinated with the result, so maybe I was still on the right track.
Mending
I have this lovely blanket my granny made for me when I moved out west to go to university. It was one of the last ones she made. All the grandchildren got one after we were born, and around the same time she made this one she did one for her great grand-duaghter Olivia. Granny used grampa’s old pants for this one, and embroidered plant vines and leaves. I love this blanket and decided to put some time into mending it. This was the most rewarding action of the week. I was worried that my patches would take away from the blanket, but instead it added more value for me, I liked the way the patches became embellishments. I like that there was no pattern to the moth holes so the patches would be irregularity spaces, and I was learning how to embroider for the first time which made me feel even more connected to my granny. Working on the blanket made me think about my granny, so I called her up for a conversation. She seemed to be doing better than the last time we spoke. I was glad to hear her voice.
Final thoughts, or are they…
I am not sure where this action left me. I don’t think I got what I was hoping to out of it. My thoughts still feel unresolved. Perhaps I just need to do more. Or approach it differently. I’d like to see what happens when I plant that pot if that will change how I feel about it. I will definitely keep working with the moth holes in grannies blanket. Taking care of the blanket made me feel closer to granny, and knowing that she is 93, and that because of covid I may never get the chance to go home to see her again, well it felt significant to build on her work, and maintain this connection between us.
Note: grampa passed away several years ago, but I used my own trouser material for the patches, so maybe I am connecting with him too in a weird way.