Sunday, December 11, 2011

Solid matter

While it is not what I intend, my mind has the habit of seeing things as connected. In most circumstances, I find this beneficial, even enlightening. There are moments, however, that deserve to have no ties to anything that came before. One such settled upon me this week as I opened and gazed into a box of the 50-some ready-to-stamp images (thank you Debra of Rubbermoon for the work of affixing rubber to wood), my new collection. Detaching this experience - or myself- from other debuts/releases, I was aware of how extraordinary it is to trace the process of imaginative spark becoming solid matter. Hardly an event to compare with, say, the first flight of the Space Shuttle, it is an emotion that may not stop to measure world impact. No matter what idea takes us on this journey, the transformation of electrical impulse to physical form, whether it is the work of one or many that bring it into being, ignites a sense of wonder. And appreciation.

It has taken me a long time to recognize, then own, that I have a problem with consistency. Because of that, evidence of borderline-reliable, possibly grown-up behavior takes on greater meaning. The least significant event turns me to examination of a bigger picture; if I had to write my life story today, the two key phrases that I see pulsing just above the horizon are "slippery fish" and "the bigger picture."

Life is peanut brittle before it hardens, the thick yet vaguely fluid substance peppered with bumps which it eventually wraps and includes. It flows at its own rate. It is not the fast-dispensing, watery ketchup, yet the time it takes to move from one level to another allows so much else to unfold.

The photo is shadowed, crowded, highly informal. The forensics lab would probably be very critical, yet it is evidence enough for me. I become even less focused by things that feel like a tentatively approaching cold, especially when accompanied by a cold sore that may be visible from space. We each have our unique milestones, dragons slain, peaks scaled. It matters that we acknowledge to ourselves and, as a friend calls them, enlightened witnesses that which moves us. Life is too short to take the meaningful for granted.

Copyright M. Kelly for Rubbermoon

8 comments:

Melissa Green said...

Congratulations, Marylinn. It must take your breath away to have been taken on creativity's journey--I don't know if it's like white-water rafting or walking a wire in the circus without a net, or neither, but you've been able to watch your own creative process unfold--from a whiff of an idea, to a spark, to a pencil moving on paper, then color appearing--all done according to some inner energy, logic and whimsy belonging completely to you, your very own intuition, yours and no one else's--et voila! rubber stamps appear from Rubbermoon! Consistency be damned--your daydreaming, thinking, ruminating. And the peanut brittle in its nascent state is so apt for all of us who want to make things. Thank you. xo

Angella Lister said...

well, congratulations! there is evidence of artistic effort if i ever saw it. good for you! it's beautiful work. and that peanut brittle analogy, stunning.

Marylinn Kelly said...

Melissa - Though I began designing stamps in 1994 and have had the good fortune of seeing those designs and other 'sparks' made manifest, this was a different experience. My best guess is that age and time really are teachers. While I've always understood the gift it is to create and have support for one's work, it seems that maturing (let's call it that) encourages a deeper response. Thank goodness consistency wasn't listed as one of the prerequisites for this class. Thank you. xo

Marylinn Kelly said...

Angella - Thank you. How fortunate to have this blog world, out of which we emerge, as from the mist, to be witnesses for each other. I saw myself, several Christmases ago, making a Cooking Channel, microwave peanut brittle and, voila. Ah, the mind. xo

Penelope said...

How exciting! All those firm little objects — awaiting the grip and press of hands and a kind of magical re-appearance — that were once 'mere' impulses begging your attention.

Marylinn Kelly said...

Penelope - Yes, it is exciting. And there are background images from another artist that work well with them on cards and such. xo

Kelly Kilmer said...

These look fabulous!!! Huge congrats to Marylinn
and Debra!

Marylinn Kelly said...

Kelly - Thank you. Debra and Rubbermoon provide a wonderful sanctuary for life's oddments. xo