Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Making soap, tile as art and shifting my paradigms

Well Sunday turned out to be a day of knocking Scott as far out of my box as possible.

It started out by playing with a soap making kit at the Inn as we waited for guests to check out. It was different for me partly by doing something that would normally be handled by writing a check, but more so the conversation as we did it, questioning thoughts and things known in certain ways to looking at them from different perspectives. That is certainly one of the things that draw people to Evan - there's this unspoken challenge in him, innocent and humble even, from him just standing there listening that makes you pause and re-evaluate what you're thought process is and what outside influences have gone into it already. There's something about his desire to stand outside the mainstream that just provokes you to question why you aren't as well.

Heading back to the Chalets, I was still mulling over that conversation with all it's various twists and topics and walked into something I had no time to prepare for. Kelly is putting together her tile mosaic on one of the new jacuzzi tubs and I was instantly hit with the visual of what she described in words to me weeks beforehand. The words she had spoken to try to paint this image for me came rushing back and I instantly 'got it'. I know my reaction was almost physical, it stands out as one of those rare times that I've seen something and appreciated it's beauty before trying to evaluate it's usefulness.

I quickly changed into work clothes and asked what I could do to help. She looked around and then lit up - her face showing a very self satisfied smile as she explained how she wanted me to install the back border and how there was a randomness to it that had to be continued. We joked about it, but truthfully it was going to be a challenge for me to do something in defiance to my natural tendency to have everything symmetrical and balanced. I had a physical tensing up reaction to not having nice square edges to butt together in neat little rows. And as I adjusted to that, I realized I was having a blast.

How could I have forgotten how much fun I had in kindergarten doing fingerpaints? Where had that joy gone? I was on a high, I wanted to go splash in puddles, I wanted to create. Somewhere the concept of getting glass made to fit into the outside light fixtures became "why don't we make the glass ourselves out of the wine bottles that we empty?" Somehow the technical aspects have morphed into "why don't we get Billy to rig up some way to power them from the river?" and "why don't we build our own kiln and make the lights right here?"

And just like that, it's in the works. I've taken pride in other projects that I've done before, but I can see now that they really aren't in the same league. Before I was simply figuring out how to go to Point B if I started at Point A. Not to downplay that, it's a skill in it's own right. But now I can see that what I've done up to this point is the same type of difference in baking a cake from a box to making a cobbler from scratch from blackberries you grew yourself. Both are baking, but miles could fit in between them.

It seems as though there should be an ending to this tale, but it really is more of a beginning, isn't it?

Powered by ScribeFire.

No comments: