'The most satisfying thing a human being can do – and the sexiest – is to make something.
Life is about relationship – to each other – and to the material world. Making something is a relationship.
The verb is the clue. We make love, we make babies, we make dinner, we make sense, we make a difference, we make it up, we make it new….
True, we sometimes make a mess, but creativity never was a factory finish.
The wrestle with material isn’t about subduing; it is about making a third thing that didn’t exist before. The raw material was there, and you were there, but the relationship that happens between maker and material allows the finished piece to be what it is. And that allows a further relationship to develop between the piece and the viewer or the buyer.
Both relationships are in every way different from mass production or store bought objects that, however useful, are dead on arrival. Anyone who makes something finds its life, whether it’s Michelangelo releasing David from twenty tons of Carrera marble, or potter Jane Cox spinning me a plate using the power of her shoulders, the sureness of her hands, the concentration of her mind.
I have a set of silverware made by an eighteenth century silverworker called Hester Bateman, one of the very few women working in flatware at that time. When I eat with her spoons, I feel the work and the satisfaction that went into making them – the handle and bowl are in equal balance – and I feel a part of time as it really is – not chopped into little bits, but continuous. She made this beautiful thing, it’s still here, and I am here too, writing my books, eating my soup, two women making things across time. I feel connection, respect, delight. And it is just a spoon…
But the thing about craft, about the making of everyday objects that we can have around us, about the making of objects that are beautiful and/or useful, is that our everyday life is enriched.
How it is enriched? To make something is to be both conscious and concentrated – it is a fully alert state, but not one of anxious hyper-arousal. We all know the flow we feel when we are absorbed in what we do. I find that by having a few things around me that have been made by someone’s hand and eye and imagination working together, I am prevented from passing through my daily life in a kind of blur. I have to notice what is in front of me – the table, the vase, the hand-blocked curtains, the thumb prints in the sculpture, the lettering block. I have some lamps made by Marianna Kennedy, and what I switch on is not a bulb on a stem; it is her sense of light.
So I am in relationship to the object and in relationship to the maker. This allows me to escape from the anonymity and clutter of the way we live now. Instead of surrounding myself with lots of things I hardly notice, I have a few things that also seem to notice me. No doubt this is a fantasy – but…
The life of objects is a strange one.
A maker creates something like a fossil record. She or he is imprinted in the piece. We know that energy is never lost, only that it changes its form, and it seems to me that the maker shape-shifts her/himself into the object. That is why it remains a living thing.
Of course it is possible to design an object that will be made by others – but that is an extension of the creative relationship, not its antithesis. It is the ceaseless reproduction of meaningless objects that kills creativity for all of us, as producers and consumers.
But are producers and consumers who we want to be?
To make is to do. It is an active verb. Creativity is present in every child ever born. Kids love making things. There are different doses and dilutions of creativity, and the force is much stronger in some than in others – but it is there for all of us, and should never have been separated off from life into art.
I would like to live in a creative continuum that runs from the child’s drawing on the fridge to Lucien Freud, from the coffee cups made by a young ceramicist to Grayson Perry’s pots.
We don’t need to agonise over the boundaries between ‘art’ and ‘craft’, any more than we should be separating art and life. The boundary is between the creative exuberance of being human, and the monotony of an existence dependent on mass production – objects, food, values, aspirations.
Making is personal. Making is shared. Making is a celebration of who we are.'
~ Jeanette Winterson
Showing posts with label human nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label human nature. Show all posts
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Saturday, 30 January 2010
Drunken painful rants...
Why is it that those of us who start out as losers, end losers? Just cause im used to being dumped... used and taken for granted, doesnt mean i want people to treat me that way... But it keeps happening... Dosent matter where i am or who with. What this girls problem is or if she really has one at all... none of it matters, as long as im at the receiving end of the bull shit and pain...
I feel like a moron tonight... for trusting someone.... for thinking that if i do the right thing things would work out... for putting so much effort into doing the right thing and being screwed over anyway.... i feel like a moron because even though i know the right thing gets me nowhere, gets me hurt, gets me pushed aside, i insist on taking only that path...and for believing that something good could come my way...
There is nothing to say that will rid me of my annoyance, nothing that will ease the pain... so im writing this instead... venting my frustration and hoping it will empty my mind and heart enough to let me rest tonight... (seeing as its 3 in the morning!)
Friday, 3 October 2008
Humanity, the nightmare (viewer discression adivised)
I havent had the chance to re read this and edit or correct it in any way... so please excuse the errors or anything else...
[03-10-08]
I had a nightmare last night. One that was very unlike the ones iv had before... in this one there was no dual presence, with one me inside the story and the other watching from the outside, aware that this is only a dream... there was no knowledge at all that it wasnt real... it was too vivid and palpable for that... it resembled reality too much for the thought to have even occurred... and thats what made so much more frightening when i thought about it this morning.
I couldnt help but think about it all morning. Where it came from and what it was supposed to mean. The answer to the former i think i know now... the past couple of weeks have been full of frustrated conversations about the hateful and uncompassionate world we live in as a result of a reading various horrid stories from the newspaper every morning... and the list of is extensive; the Bihar victims, the unending bomb blasts around the country, the reviewing of the 2002 riots and the Nanavati commission report, the manipulation of the naive and stupid minds of our people, Sarah Palin proudly announcing that every American should be allowed to own a gun, the very real possibility of the nuclear deal and the ease with which it can be misused, hearing that 17 female fetuses had been found in a garbage can in Gujarat; many mangled by hungry strays, the countless stories of rape ranging from professors raping (and blackmailing) entire groups of female students in colleges to uncles raping their 6 month old nieces... these are only naming a few... enough to explain where this particular dream found its fuel...as for the second question, what it means... i have no idea... and for some reason, i know there is a part of me that is afraid of knowing the answer.
Now for dream...
------
I found myself in the middle of some kind of huge graduation party... it was the middle of the night and there must have been over 200 students... drinking, dancing, talking loudly, trying to be heard over the music... some talking in groups in quieter corners.. others lined up on the low ledge of a wall, only their silhouettes and lit cigarettes visible to those who bothered to look... walking through the crowd i overheard names that i knew... the names were of two girls that had gone missing from college one day a little over a month ago and i knew they still hadnt been found... i assumed the conversation had come up as it was their batch that was graduating... the party kept going, with people getting more and more drunk and the dancing becoming more and more stupid... how long it was before i saw the light of the projector come on reflecting off the outer wall of the main building im not sure... the first couple of seconds of the video were unclear. Shaky images of hands and even a glimpse of faces. It was as if the camera was already rolling while someone was trying to attach it to its tripod... I realised people had noticed the new source of interest and were walking towards the building to get a better view of whatever it was that was going to be screened. I started to move forward too. Seeing as it was less crowded at the sides i found my way to a spot where i could climb atop a large block of stone where a few others were already perched to get a decent look... The sound came on with a loud crackling noise and the gruff voices of two or maybe three men swept across the crowd, bringing an instant silence... The men were mumbling, making it hard to understand what they were talking about... but even so, there was an unmistakable slur that was heard in all three's voices. It was pretty obvious they were drunk... At this point all we could see on screen were the men's legs. Two in jeans, one in army shorts. The room was not dark. There was harsh white light pouring out of some other room into the one they were in...
--------
(I dont know if i can continue telling this story... i might have to wait till tomorrow to try... the tears are making it hard to see the letters on the screen...)
[04-10-08]
i tried to continue writing the story... but my insides turn every time i even attempt to remember what happened next... i know what did... but to continue writing like that would mean to really see it again... shut my eyes and let the images that terrify me reassemble inside my mind... i cant do it... i cant let myself be part of that night anymore... but i will finish the story... just not in the way it should be told... it might not seem as real as it did in the first part, for i must skip all details... or at least try, for my own sake... i haven't even begun and i can feel my heart beating like a drum against my chest... so let me just get this over with...
---------
Before they realised what had happened they heard muffled screaming... two women... the voices were familiar to some... others only realised it was the missing girls when the men finally moved, giving the crowd their first view at something that would haunt them... and me... for a very long time. The two girls were tied up to two tables that were made to stand vertically... the rope holding their hands and legs apart cut through their wrists sending trickles of blood down their arms, over their stripped bodies, down to the floor... their faces were tired and colourless, glistening with tears.... Their eyes pleading and helpless... shirts gagging both with only enough room for their muffled screams that had been heard... But there were no gasps... no one screamed... no one pointed and whispered in disgust or anger or disbelief ... the silence was deafening... and the thought of what could come next as the clean metal knives the men were holding by their sides came into view, left the crowd in a horrified silence. Throats too dry to speak... chocked with tears they watched as the men grinning in triumph circled the girls... running the cold blade across their faces... and then their necks... their breasts... stomachs... all the way down to their feet, leaving thin marks that ran all the way down... Their was a shuffling of feet as people began to back away... some looked around helplessly, hoping someone else knew what to do... the men continued... their knives digging deeper and deeper with every stroke... laughing at their game...
By the time someone managed to push their way through the panicking, screaming crowd to stop the video the two girls were barely conscious... torn... bleeding... mutilated ... He found the projector cable and jerked it out of its socket, leaving the crowd with nothing but darkness...
------------
As the days go on the images are fading little by little, loosing focus. The details are being lost... but the feeling? The feeling remains... clear as day... The feeling has squirmed its way deep inside me... buried itself in my center... and it continues to send out waves of fear and disgust...
I know i have heard stories like this one before and yet not been this troubled by it.... but i know why this is different... these were not words... not typed up in some newspaper by some random journalist... not edited with all the 'improper' details left out... this was right here, inside me... i saw every bit... and these images are harder to ignore than any words have ever been...
This is our reality today... i could be that girl and so could any of the people i know... and if this is not how one of us gets it... it will be something else... there are more negative forces than there are people who can fight them... this is my reality... and sometimes it makes me want to not live at all... but most of the times it reminds me to fight... to be one more source of strength to the correct side... and thats how i get by.
[03-10-08]
I had a nightmare last night. One that was very unlike the ones iv had before... in this one there was no dual presence, with one me inside the story and the other watching from the outside, aware that this is only a dream... there was no knowledge at all that it wasnt real... it was too vivid and palpable for that... it resembled reality too much for the thought to have even occurred... and thats what made so much more frightening when i thought about it this morning.
I couldnt help but think about it all morning. Where it came from and what it was supposed to mean. The answer to the former i think i know now... the past couple of weeks have been full of frustrated conversations about the hateful and uncompassionate world we live in as a result of a reading various horrid stories from the newspaper every morning... and the list of is extensive; the Bihar victims, the unending bomb blasts around the country, the reviewing of the 2002 riots and the Nanavati commission report, the manipulation of the naive and stupid minds of our people, Sarah Palin proudly announcing that every American should be allowed to own a gun, the very real possibility of the nuclear deal and the ease with which it can be misused, hearing that 17 female fetuses had been found in a garbage can in Gujarat; many mangled by hungry strays, the countless stories of rape ranging from professors raping (and blackmailing) entire groups of female students in colleges to uncles raping their 6 month old nieces... these are only naming a few... enough to explain where this particular dream found its fuel...as for the second question, what it means... i have no idea... and for some reason, i know there is a part of me that is afraid of knowing the answer.
Now for dream...
------
I found myself in the middle of some kind of huge graduation party... it was the middle of the night and there must have been over 200 students... drinking, dancing, talking loudly, trying to be heard over the music... some talking in groups in quieter corners.. others lined up on the low ledge of a wall, only their silhouettes and lit cigarettes visible to those who bothered to look... walking through the crowd i overheard names that i knew... the names were of two girls that had gone missing from college one day a little over a month ago and i knew they still hadnt been found... i assumed the conversation had come up as it was their batch that was graduating... the party kept going, with people getting more and more drunk and the dancing becoming more and more stupid... how long it was before i saw the light of the projector come on reflecting off the outer wall of the main building im not sure... the first couple of seconds of the video were unclear. Shaky images of hands and even a glimpse of faces. It was as if the camera was already rolling while someone was trying to attach it to its tripod... I realised people had noticed the new source of interest and were walking towards the building to get a better view of whatever it was that was going to be screened. I started to move forward too. Seeing as it was less crowded at the sides i found my way to a spot where i could climb atop a large block of stone where a few others were already perched to get a decent look... The sound came on with a loud crackling noise and the gruff voices of two or maybe three men swept across the crowd, bringing an instant silence... The men were mumbling, making it hard to understand what they were talking about... but even so, there was an unmistakable slur that was heard in all three's voices. It was pretty obvious they were drunk... At this point all we could see on screen were the men's legs. Two in jeans, one in army shorts. The room was not dark. There was harsh white light pouring out of some other room into the one they were in...
--------
(I dont know if i can continue telling this story... i might have to wait till tomorrow to try... the tears are making it hard to see the letters on the screen...)
[04-10-08]
i tried to continue writing the story... but my insides turn every time i even attempt to remember what happened next... i know what did... but to continue writing like that would mean to really see it again... shut my eyes and let the images that terrify me reassemble inside my mind... i cant do it... i cant let myself be part of that night anymore... but i will finish the story... just not in the way it should be told... it might not seem as real as it did in the first part, for i must skip all details... or at least try, for my own sake... i haven't even begun and i can feel my heart beating like a drum against my chest... so let me just get this over with...
---------
Before they realised what had happened they heard muffled screaming... two women... the voices were familiar to some... others only realised it was the missing girls when the men finally moved, giving the crowd their first view at something that would haunt them... and me... for a very long time. The two girls were tied up to two tables that were made to stand vertically... the rope holding their hands and legs apart cut through their wrists sending trickles of blood down their arms, over their stripped bodies, down to the floor... their faces were tired and colourless, glistening with tears.... Their eyes pleading and helpless... shirts gagging both with only enough room for their muffled screams that had been heard... But there were no gasps... no one screamed... no one pointed and whispered in disgust or anger or disbelief ... the silence was deafening... and the thought of what could come next as the clean metal knives the men were holding by their sides came into view, left the crowd in a horrified silence. Throats too dry to speak... chocked with tears they watched as the men grinning in triumph circled the girls... running the cold blade across their faces... and then their necks... their breasts... stomachs... all the way down to their feet, leaving thin marks that ran all the way down... Their was a shuffling of feet as people began to back away... some looked around helplessly, hoping someone else knew what to do... the men continued... their knives digging deeper and deeper with every stroke... laughing at their game...
By the time someone managed to push their way through the panicking, screaming crowd to stop the video the two girls were barely conscious... torn... bleeding... mutilated ... He found the projector cable and jerked it out of its socket, leaving the crowd with nothing but darkness...
------------
As the days go on the images are fading little by little, loosing focus. The details are being lost... but the feeling? The feeling remains... clear as day... The feeling has squirmed its way deep inside me... buried itself in my center... and it continues to send out waves of fear and disgust...
I know i have heard stories like this one before and yet not been this troubled by it.... but i know why this is different... these were not words... not typed up in some newspaper by some random journalist... not edited with all the 'improper' details left out... this was right here, inside me... i saw every bit... and these images are harder to ignore than any words have ever been...
This is our reality today... i could be that girl and so could any of the people i know... and if this is not how one of us gets it... it will be something else... there are more negative forces than there are people who can fight them... this is my reality... and sometimes it makes me want to not live at all... but most of the times it reminds me to fight... to be one more source of strength to the correct side... and thats how i get by.
Thursday, 17 January 2008
Life and loss
Today i found out that a good friend of mine lost someone really dear to him... it was sudden and no one could have known it was coming... but just like that, it happened... and nothing could stop it...
What im about to write is just a reminder to myself and everyone who stumbles upon this here about some things we tend to forget... we all know life and death i something we cant fully comprehend, death especially... and thats why it is important to remember and do certain things... like who you are... who you want to be, and to be that person no matter what the odds... do the things you really want to do... do things that make you happy... and even if they dont make others happy... sometimes you need to do them anyway... put yourself and your needs first... and know that that doesn't mean being selfish and ignoring others needs... stop taking the world for granted... stop taking the people around you for granted... say what you want to say, what you really mean... dont hide... dont keep your ideas and opinions hidden inside you... dont be afraid of the world... as scary as it is... tell everyone you hate that you hate them and why.... especially the ones that have hurt you and used you... if strength falters and it still hurts inside, then tell them that too and let them know you aren't afraid of admitting it... be proud of who and what you are and dont blame it all on yourself, it might really be their fault after all, just like your friends keep telling you ... believe that a lot of what happens is just chance... and bad (or good) timing! And the two most important things... be with people who make you smile... with people you truly love... dont let anyone tell you who that can be... if being the only human and having 10 dogs makes you happy... then live like that... Dont listen to people who tell you what the right thing to do is.... know that there is no one right thing... fall in love... not once but over and over again... and when you are in love... let the feeling run through every inch of your body and dont waste a single minute of it... tell that person and all those you love and who love you how much they mean to you.... remind them every day.... dont think it will get tedious or repetitive... it wont... making someone feel loved is as important as feeling it yourself... and when you tell someone you love them... make sure you really mean it!
Im not saying life is short ... it may be... it may not... but lets just not forget that everyone isn't as privileged as us and not everyone is given the opportunity to be happy... so lets try and make the most of it...
What im about to write is just a reminder to myself and everyone who stumbles upon this here about some things we tend to forget... we all know life and death i something we cant fully comprehend, death especially... and thats why it is important to remember and do certain things... like who you are... who you want to be, and to be that person no matter what the odds... do the things you really want to do... do things that make you happy... and even if they dont make others happy... sometimes you need to do them anyway... put yourself and your needs first... and know that that doesn't mean being selfish and ignoring others needs... stop taking the world for granted... stop taking the people around you for granted... say what you want to say, what you really mean... dont hide... dont keep your ideas and opinions hidden inside you... dont be afraid of the world... as scary as it is... tell everyone you hate that you hate them and why.... especially the ones that have hurt you and used you... if strength falters and it still hurts inside, then tell them that too and let them know you aren't afraid of admitting it... be proud of who and what you are and dont blame it all on yourself, it might really be their fault after all, just like your friends keep telling you ... believe that a lot of what happens is just chance... and bad (or good) timing! And the two most important things... be with people who make you smile... with people you truly love... dont let anyone tell you who that can be... if being the only human and having 10 dogs makes you happy... then live like that... Dont listen to people who tell you what the right thing to do is.... know that there is no one right thing... fall in love... not once but over and over again... and when you are in love... let the feeling run through every inch of your body and dont waste a single minute of it... tell that person and all those you love and who love you how much they mean to you.... remind them every day.... dont think it will get tedious or repetitive... it wont... making someone feel loved is as important as feeling it yourself... and when you tell someone you love them... make sure you really mean it!
Im not saying life is short ... it may be... it may not... but lets just not forget that everyone isn't as privileged as us and not everyone is given the opportunity to be happy... so lets try and make the most of it...
Tuesday, 29 May 2007
Sniffing rain!!!!!
It smells like distant rain... must be the result of a downpour somewhere. Its dark as evening and its not even time for tea yet. But this whether is welcomed with open arms... by me that is. And maybe a couple of others, sitting in their offices or balconies bored with the morose world around them. All of us are just there... letting the air that smells so good encompass us for those five minutes and we close our eyes and imagine its all better. Everybody is trying to get away from something. Everybody wants something else... and here is that escape. For me of course its mainly only the rain that i want. Il hide in its veil... from whatever... and just enjoy the feeling of an enourmous force that is not ruled by petty human nature like everything else is...
Of course there is no real waiting for such a thing... for though its happening is inevitable... its timing is completely unknown. So much so that in all reality, it is not expected for at least another two months. But here i am sniffing away at the overheated ground that is ready and calling for it and the sky which is returning its call.... in some way or another!
But hey, i havnt finished writing and the suns already fought its way through a couple of determined clouds!! he he... hmm... the Ahmedabad sun... always prevailing!! Hmmm.... this wait for monsoon is always sooooo bloody long!
Of course there is no real waiting for such a thing... for though its happening is inevitable... its timing is completely unknown. So much so that in all reality, it is not expected for at least another two months. But here i am sniffing away at the overheated ground that is ready and calling for it and the sky which is returning its call.... in some way or another!
But hey, i havnt finished writing and the suns already fought its way through a couple of determined clouds!! he he... hmm... the Ahmedabad sun... always prevailing!! Hmmm.... this wait for monsoon is always sooooo bloody long!
Thursday, 10 May 2007
The fickel summer wind...
'The summer wind, came blowin in - from across the sea
It lingered there, so warm and fair - to walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song - and strolled on golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, those days and nights - went flyin by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter wind - have come and gone
And still the days, those lonely days - go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind'
if only it were that beautiful.... but.... but.... but....!!
Women are fickle... yes, they are.... really.... the ones around me especially.... and it makes me wonder if its just them... or us as a species... the men were always like that... so it comes as no surprise... but the women? It makes me almost not want to be one... or does it? scary thought that is... because i love being a woman... but not someone fickel... and what option do i have anyway? Be a man?!?!?!? no way!! god! I guess there is no good in this thought... its like a dog running after its own tail.... and for all the feminist blood in me... this one time i cant deny it... because they these women are a wall of water before me... and even when i can swim they will drown me... and the clarity and purness everyone can see, shows me only the truth... makes it easier to see the reality... so when they return to the idiot that i am... i already know!!
Wait... if none of that made any sense to you now.... just wait... they'l get you too... not once.... over and over and over again... and no it doesnt matter if your a man or a woman... becasue human beings were made this way, both the sexes... and we are the lowest and most detestable of the worlds creations...
It lingered there, so warm and fair - to walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song - and strolled on golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, those days and nights - went flyin by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter wind - have come and gone
And still the days, those lonely days - go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind'
if only it were that beautiful.... but.... but.... but....!!
Women are fickle... yes, they are.... really.... the ones around me especially.... and it makes me wonder if its just them... or us as a species... the men were always like that... so it comes as no surprise... but the women? It makes me almost not want to be one... or does it? scary thought that is... because i love being a woman... but not someone fickel... and what option do i have anyway? Be a man?!?!?!? no way!! god! I guess there is no good in this thought... its like a dog running after its own tail.... and for all the feminist blood in me... this one time i cant deny it... because they these women are a wall of water before me... and even when i can swim they will drown me... and the clarity and purness everyone can see, shows me only the truth... makes it easier to see the reality... so when they return to the idiot that i am... i already know!!
Wait... if none of that made any sense to you now.... just wait... they'l get you too... not once.... over and over and over again... and no it doesnt matter if your a man or a woman... becasue human beings were made this way, both the sexes... and we are the lowest and most detestable of the worlds creations...
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