#2 Normal

read, new art, super power

Hey there. 

This week, a friend told me she stopped half way through a book I recommended because it is too depressing. While it is healthy for friends to differ in opinions, this case is just bewildering, because I meant to cheer her up. The book is Normal People by Sally Rooney. Have you read it? Not only do the characters monologues and decisions resonate, the book reminds me of the questions I've always had growing up—what does it mean to be normal, normal in what context, normal to who? Does normal reflect only what's outside? or does it have to be inside too?

Perhaps affected by the book, perhaps the tides of the moon, a shark I've been working on, intended as a fearsome predator refuses to be told what normal is. It is emerging a lot softer (though I really should know by now that's what fabric is), and the intended aggressive personality is no where in sight. Along with the shark, I'm working on another aquatic animal. A penguin. I've only put the body together, too early to tell if the penguin would be prone to screaming or hiding. 

Talk about hiding. I've gotten myself a bunch of hearing protection—industrial earmuffs, foam earplugs, silicon earplugs. The first week I've had them, they felt like a cape with magic. The super power is an increased perceived distance between me and the next person. I no longer feel at the mercy of my neighbours, or the never ending constructions in the city. I've always put on earplugs on the plane to protect myself from screaming babies that only cry when I’ve finally drifted off to sleep. Beats me why I expected 4 thin walls of my apartment to shield me the chaos of the world.

Now, I control the time and the place I give me my full attention. Along with scissors, thimble, hearing protection has become part of my art kit.

A lot on my mind this week, but can't sift the mixture into words somehow,

till next week, Marn.