Thank you for this. I love the idea of contagion magic as a “spell passed through palms.” And returning to childhood play through immersion in objects as their own world brings back lots of memories! As I was looking around my kitchen for objects, there are many mini collections--all the drawings, words and magnets on the refrigerator, colorful boxes of tea on a bookshelf, tiny plants, dried flowers and a pile of coins on the windowsill. I started thinking about the coins, and as they drew me in, I saw they really were their own little world; with images stamped on their faces, rankings of social order ( pennies vs nickels, dimes, and quarters), engraved birthdates, national allegiances, and a vast history of travels and transactions that I will never know. And it struck me that coins age and grow old but, due to their metallic properties, (almost) never die, though I’ve heard some “retire” when the government decides to take them out of circulation. Where others may remain for infinity in shipwrecks and buried deep in the soil, sometimes to be discovered again.
To Susu, your introduction hits very close to home this week as we learned that a dear, brilliant former colleague after several months of worsening symptoms and misdiagnosis in Jakarta learned during a second, expert opinion in Singapore that he has a glioblastoma. Experts there have moved mountains and arranged schedules for surgery Wednesday, the first day his system will be cleared from medication prescribed for the misdiagnosis.
He is among the lucky - strong insurance, financially stable, devoted wife and friends worldwide praying for him. I recommended your book, but your prompt makes me realize I need to send a copy, along with Bono’s memoir Surrender, so he will have something on his little shelf to signify those rooting for him.
Suleika, I believe traces of a person can remain in some objects. A bit if someone’s energy can remain. I took a class in Native People’s of Canada many years ago. One of my classmates made a prayer bundle. I still have it. Gifts from the heart are meaningful and stay in our heart. Whenever the receiver looks at the gift so any wonderful possibilities can surface. It’s the heart gifts that last forever. They aren’t just “things”. They are love, wishes,dreams, hope, wonder, happiness.
Prompt. I was going to use the prayer bundle which has been in my drawer but the crow feather must have disintegrated over so many years. So as I went through drawers I found a moth wing that I saved. I was walking up my driveway and the sun brought this wing to my attention. It’s the hind wing of a Polyphemus or Silk Moth. It had a eye marking that has a shimmer to it and seems to be looking at you. The color is tan and browns. The eye has golds and purple and a silver shimmer. I don’t know what ate the moth. Perhaps a vat or bird. Probably bat since there aren’t a lot of birds at night. I wonder how long a lifespan the beautiful moth had. His life wasn’t in vain. Its body gave calories to another creature. If it was a bat that bat will eat thousands of mosquitos which would spread illnesses. But the moth left a piece of itself behind for me to find. Someone knows it was here. It was beautiful. It gave back beauty and wonder. It had a story even though it was a short story. I take the wing out and look in wonder. I think I need to draw this wing. Eventually it may also dissipate like the crow wing. Nothing organic lasts forever. At least this little creature was gifted with flight in its brief life. That is a wonderful gift.
I probably won’t make it the Hatch today. I’ll get there one day. It’s so hard to have a full hour of guaranteed quiet. Look forward to tearing about it. Also I will use todays prompt as a great exercise to get the creative thought process going.
I love to find and give meaningful gifts. To give someone what they ask for, to choose from a list and purchase a present is practical but seldom magical. Let’s all aim to open our heart to the surprise of being given something we didn’t ask for. To open to surprise.
While being a HS art teacher I came upon Calvino’s book in a lovely gift from a friend. I copied several ‘cities’ actually six, photocopied them and passed them out to my students. Their assignment was to make a visual interpretation of the story. Their pieces needed to use mixed medias…but only four…and needed to have some ‘relief’ components. The results were amazing and varied. But most important was their enthusiasm for the work of their classmates, especially those that had interpreted their story. The realization that we may read the same thing but visualize it very differently.
Dec 18, 2022·edited Dec 19, 2022Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt
I love to wander a consignment store, auction house or resale shop -to take note of items no longer wanted by someone-like the dolls and trucks on the island of Misfit Toys. So many items left behind; armoires, china, glassware, stools, mirrors. Over the years I’ve brought home a dining room table, French sideboard, and an old still life oil painting found in a small antique store in Todi. Each is quiet and elegant yet witness to years of domestic life, as first hand observers. What would they say, what have they seen, what secrets do they hold, were they ever loved?
Wow, that was magical and inspirational. Thank you Suleika for taking my imagination off on a ride of wonder. I have always been seeking a way to unlock my creativity. I think that you may have just showed me where the key might be.I have been interested in you and your life since I read your book. I wish you and all of your beloveds only the best…the best health, the best joy, the most fulfilling of struggles.I am humbled by your strength because I know you’ve worked hard for it.
I have a plain cardboard box under my bed, but it holds magic: all the gifts I buy during the year, the things that make me say, "Ah, Barb would love that" or "that is so Sandy." Slow gifting indeed!
Once I was given a kaleidoscope as a gift from one of my students. At first, I didn’t quite know what to make of it, but knowing this little one’s imagination I gave it a go. Oh my. What magical worlds a little imagination and a gift given with such love opens up. I still love kaleidoscopes and the memory of that fantastically evocative gift is always with me, in my heart.
Choose an object—or a pile of objects—with textural interest. It might be a pineapple, a sponge, an egg carton, a pinecone, a pile of crayons, an overturned colander. Now, imagine a whole world contained within that object—a place full of life and commerce. What does it look like, smell like, and feel like there? How has the environment shaped the citizens? What do they fear? What do they wish for? When you think you’ve gone deep, go deeper. Get lost.
Wally
Wally, a feral cat, came to me last Fall for a visit. I gave him food, built him a heated, insulated shelter, and placed a radiant heater on the ceiling of the porch for the times he wanted to be on top of the shelter in a bed.
I doubt that Wally has ever interacted with a human. He would not let me touch him or even get close. Wally’s colors are black and white, like an Orca with white socks.
Last year the winter was crazy cold. I tried to coax Wally into the house without success. One day, when the temperature was -20 without the wind-chill, I tricked him, successfully, to go into a pet carrier where I had placed some tuna. When I closed the door, he looked pissed. I brought him in and got him to the vet for an exam, and necessary injections. He would need to come back in about a month for a few boosters.
I put him in my bedroom when we got back from the vet because I didn’t want any fights between him and my other cats. My plan was to bring them together, slowly, in Spring. Wally did not like being confined.
A month later, I tried to get him into the pet carrier for a visit to the vet for his boosters. No joy. He was not going to be fooled again. Smart little dude. When Easter rolled around, and the weather was decent, I opened a window in my bedroom to let him choose to stay or go. One night he left and I did not see him again until mid-November of this year.
Our routine resumed. He’s still here! This time he will let me offer my hand to be smelled without freaking out. He enjoys the food (I spoil him). We’ll see where this goes this time around. Once in a while he will hop on one of the Adirondack chairs on the porch and stare at the cats through the window. I think he’s sizing us up, which is fine.
I wonder about his world. So low to the ground, nocturnal, wandering. His predators are coyotes, eagles and owls, which populate this area. Aside from territorial concerns and fights with other cats over declared land, he has to be aware, constantly, of these predators for his survival.
Interacting with a human requires caution – he has likely never done this. It’s new for him. But he knew where to come for a meal. That makes me feel good.
I will continue to coax him into the house on his terms. Twice he came in, looked around and left, so it looks promising. He needs to trust, and in time, I think he will. I hope he will, so he can join the others and have some buddies, and ensure I know he is warm and fed.
I tried to attach a picture of Wally, but it did not work.
grateful to you, suleika & holly, helping us all deepen this earth experience ...
'psychometry' is a very real phenomenon: 'ability to discover facts about an event or person by touching inanimate objects associated with them...' i have experienced psychometry in a controlled experiment myself & i 'believe' we are all swimming in a sea of psychic energy whether we 'believe' or not ... may all find peace, love, joy & health in every moment! ...
Thank you for this. I love the idea of contagion magic as a “spell passed through palms.” And returning to childhood play through immersion in objects as their own world brings back lots of memories! As I was looking around my kitchen for objects, there are many mini collections--all the drawings, words and magnets on the refrigerator, colorful boxes of tea on a bookshelf, tiny plants, dried flowers and a pile of coins on the windowsill. I started thinking about the coins, and as they drew me in, I saw they really were their own little world; with images stamped on their faces, rankings of social order ( pennies vs nickels, dimes, and quarters), engraved birthdates, national allegiances, and a vast history of travels and transactions that I will never know. And it struck me that coins age and grow old but, due to their metallic properties, (almost) never die, though I’ve heard some “retire” when the government decides to take them out of circulation. Where others may remain for infinity in shipwrecks and buried deep in the soil, sometimes to be discovered again.
To Susu, your introduction hits very close to home this week as we learned that a dear, brilliant former colleague after several months of worsening symptoms and misdiagnosis in Jakarta learned during a second, expert opinion in Singapore that he has a glioblastoma. Experts there have moved mountains and arranged schedules for surgery Wednesday, the first day his system will be cleared from medication prescribed for the misdiagnosis.
He is among the lucky - strong insurance, financially stable, devoted wife and friends worldwide praying for him. I recommended your book, but your prompt makes me realize I need to send a copy, along with Bono’s memoir Surrender, so he will have something on his little shelf to signify those rooting for him.
Suleika, I believe traces of a person can remain in some objects. A bit if someone’s energy can remain. I took a class in Native People’s of Canada many years ago. One of my classmates made a prayer bundle. I still have it. Gifts from the heart are meaningful and stay in our heart. Whenever the receiver looks at the gift so any wonderful possibilities can surface. It’s the heart gifts that last forever. They aren’t just “things”. They are love, wishes,dreams, hope, wonder, happiness.
Prompt. I was going to use the prayer bundle which has been in my drawer but the crow feather must have disintegrated over so many years. So as I went through drawers I found a moth wing that I saved. I was walking up my driveway and the sun brought this wing to my attention. It’s the hind wing of a Polyphemus or Silk Moth. It had a eye marking that has a shimmer to it and seems to be looking at you. The color is tan and browns. The eye has golds and purple and a silver shimmer. I don’t know what ate the moth. Perhaps a vat or bird. Probably bat since there aren’t a lot of birds at night. I wonder how long a lifespan the beautiful moth had. His life wasn’t in vain. Its body gave calories to another creature. If it was a bat that bat will eat thousands of mosquitos which would spread illnesses. But the moth left a piece of itself behind for me to find. Someone knows it was here. It was beautiful. It gave back beauty and wonder. It had a story even though it was a short story. I take the wing out and look in wonder. I think I need to draw this wing. Eventually it may also dissipate like the crow wing. Nothing organic lasts forever. At least this little creature was gifted with flight in its brief life. That is a wonderful gift.
I probably won’t make it the Hatch today. I’ll get there one day. It’s so hard to have a full hour of guaranteed quiet. Look forward to tearing about it. Also I will use todays prompt as a great exercise to get the creative thought process going.
I love to find and give meaningful gifts. To give someone what they ask for, to choose from a list and purchase a present is practical but seldom magical. Let’s all aim to open our heart to the surprise of being given something we didn’t ask for. To open to surprise.
While being a HS art teacher I came upon Calvino’s book in a lovely gift from a friend. I copied several ‘cities’ actually six, photocopied them and passed them out to my students. Their assignment was to make a visual interpretation of the story. Their pieces needed to use mixed medias…but only four…and needed to have some ‘relief’ components. The results were amazing and varied. But most important was their enthusiasm for the work of their classmates, especially those that had interpreted their story. The realization that we may read the same thing but visualize it very differently.
I love to wander a consignment store, auction house or resale shop -to take note of items no longer wanted by someone-like the dolls and trucks on the island of Misfit Toys. So many items left behind; armoires, china, glassware, stools, mirrors. Over the years I’ve brought home a dining room table, French sideboard, and an old still life oil painting found in a small antique store in Todi. Each is quiet and elegant yet witness to years of domestic life, as first hand observers. What would they say, what have they seen, what secrets do they hold, were they ever loved?
Wow, that was magical and inspirational. Thank you Suleika for taking my imagination off on a ride of wonder. I have always been seeking a way to unlock my creativity. I think that you may have just showed me where the key might be.I have been interested in you and your life since I read your book. I wish you and all of your beloveds only the best…the best health, the best joy, the most fulfilling of struggles.I am humbled by your strength because I know you’ve worked hard for it.
I have a plain cardboard box under my bed, but it holds magic: all the gifts I buy during the year, the things that make me say, "Ah, Barb would love that" or "that is so Sandy." Slow gifting indeed!
Once I was given a kaleidoscope as a gift from one of my students. At first, I didn’t quite know what to make of it, but knowing this little one’s imagination I gave it a go. Oh my. What magical worlds a little imagination and a gift given with such love opens up. I still love kaleidoscopes and the memory of that fantastically evocative gift is always with me, in my heart.
Sometimes the world is upside down, and yet it holds on tightly precious objects abound--safe
These are the best kind of gifts. Have fun cultivating your shelves!
A beautiful post. And what a wonderful exercise!
Oh how I love this message today! Fantastical indeed!
Prompt 222
Choose an object—or a pile of objects—with textural interest. It might be a pineapple, a sponge, an egg carton, a pinecone, a pile of crayons, an overturned colander. Now, imagine a whole world contained within that object—a place full of life and commerce. What does it look like, smell like, and feel like there? How has the environment shaped the citizens? What do they fear? What do they wish for? When you think you’ve gone deep, go deeper. Get lost.
Wally
Wally, a feral cat, came to me last Fall for a visit. I gave him food, built him a heated, insulated shelter, and placed a radiant heater on the ceiling of the porch for the times he wanted to be on top of the shelter in a bed.
I doubt that Wally has ever interacted with a human. He would not let me touch him or even get close. Wally’s colors are black and white, like an Orca with white socks.
Last year the winter was crazy cold. I tried to coax Wally into the house without success. One day, when the temperature was -20 without the wind-chill, I tricked him, successfully, to go into a pet carrier where I had placed some tuna. When I closed the door, he looked pissed. I brought him in and got him to the vet for an exam, and necessary injections. He would need to come back in about a month for a few boosters.
I put him in my bedroom when we got back from the vet because I didn’t want any fights between him and my other cats. My plan was to bring them together, slowly, in Spring. Wally did not like being confined.
A month later, I tried to get him into the pet carrier for a visit to the vet for his boosters. No joy. He was not going to be fooled again. Smart little dude. When Easter rolled around, and the weather was decent, I opened a window in my bedroom to let him choose to stay or go. One night he left and I did not see him again until mid-November of this year.
Our routine resumed. He’s still here! This time he will let me offer my hand to be smelled without freaking out. He enjoys the food (I spoil him). We’ll see where this goes this time around. Once in a while he will hop on one of the Adirondack chairs on the porch and stare at the cats through the window. I think he’s sizing us up, which is fine.
I wonder about his world. So low to the ground, nocturnal, wandering. His predators are coyotes, eagles and owls, which populate this area. Aside from territorial concerns and fights with other cats over declared land, he has to be aware, constantly, of these predators for his survival.
Interacting with a human requires caution – he has likely never done this. It’s new for him. But he knew where to come for a meal. That makes me feel good.
I will continue to coax him into the house on his terms. Twice he came in, looked around and left, so it looks promising. He needs to trust, and in time, I think he will. I hope he will, so he can join the others and have some buddies, and ensure I know he is warm and fed.
I tried to attach a picture of Wally, but it did not work.
grateful to you, suleika & holly, helping us all deepen this earth experience ...
'psychometry' is a very real phenomenon: 'ability to discover facts about an event or person by touching inanimate objects associated with them...' i have experienced psychometry in a controlled experiment myself & i 'believe' we are all swimming in a sea of psychic energy whether we 'believe' or not ... may all find peace, love, joy & health in every moment! ...
Beautiful!