Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Marking the space

Yesterday (Thursday April 19th), the space called out to me to mark it and so I did. Germania, (a collective member who will appear at the next meeting) joined me in this marking. We both took black charcoal sticks and walked the circumference of the space dragging our chalk, tracing the contours of the space, passing by each outlet, marking just above the trim line. Walking in and out of the different rooms with our charcoal stick felt like the first visible transgression of the beige walls. How could such a simple gesture free the body and mind?

Bridget sketching

Bridget's monsters on the door
Peeking through the frosting

Germania's poem

Bridget came to the space Monday night with pink foam insulation boards and began gluing and cutting the material. We talked about social practice as she sprayed the words OPEN on the foam board. Her beautiful dog, Dizzy guarded the space with intermittent growls as shadows passed by in the frosted window.

Bridget uses a hot carving knife by the back door. We offset the smell of burning foam with Mexican incense.

Bridget using the dry carving knife to work with the foam

Bridget's door deconstruction 

Jia came to the storefront this afternoon (Saturday April 21st) with materials and a project in mind but then the ideas were interrupted by other material offering in the space. 

I asked Jia to help me take the frosting off of the old door downstairs in the basement. We repurposed it on our front door although it's mounted in a haphazard way. The effect of the frosting on the door from the inside feels like a soft blanket of snow covering the ground. Now we are insulted from the outside world except for a small opening at the top of the door. This softness quiets the space. I understand how frosting in a landscape of buildings acquired through eminent domain has a softening effect. It wipes out the memory of people inside. 

Jia fills in various spaces with semi-dry acrylic paint.

Pat plays the singing bowl in the meditation space
by the front frosted windows

Last week Melody and I attempted our taxes at the space. Before diving into the taxes we talked about a book she is loaning me called The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson. It's hard to say if Maggie Nelson's word set me in motion marking the walls or if I just felt it was time to break with the clean and naked walls of the space. 

Melody sets up a writing center

Earlier on Sunday morning Donna came by with a dress form. This form appears to have been for a man, straight waist line and no breasts but as I read The Argonauts I think maybe this form doesn't have to be limited to a man's body alone. 

Donna pinning her form

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