Note: These postcards are coming out of my trips chronological order— just like if I’d mailed them.
Many years ago, after quitting a job (perhaps foolishly, but that’s another story) to focus on creative writing, I first spent a few of my newfound free days making a mosaic table top. I’d never done such a thing before so my methods were crude. After buying a bunch of tile at a North Boulder warehouse, I spent half a day shattering them by throwing the shiny squares at a section of our flagstone patio. It felt cathartic to break things and eventually I had enough tile shards to get to work with cement and grout. The table top’s surface ended up being a little uneven, but I recall at least one friend being impressed by my handiwork.
Soon after, life as I knew it would really break open (err, apart), and I’m struck now that my first order of business after letting go of an orderly lifestyle was making something out of what’s broken. While I didn’t pursue making literal mosaics, I continued to take inspiration from the form’s many metaphors, making a memorable visit to Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens, where artist Isaiah Zagar transformed a neighborhood with mirrors, colorful tile and found objects. Closer to home, the Oakland Institute of Mosaic Art used to be based in Jingletown, and many mosaics still remain in the neighborhood (which I first discovered when my friend, mosaic artist Rachel Rodie lived nearby). At this very moment, I’m sitting at table in a Laramie cafe with a mosaic table top! It’s assuring that something new, beautiful and whole can be made from fragments.
So I was delighted when we arrived in Port Hadlock to celebrate Kwame’s mom’s birthday and found Pat wanted us all to make her a mosaic stepping stone. Pat is an accomplished glass artist and former art therapist and she had a buffet of materials available for us to use. Shelves full of neatly stacked colored tiles, small bins of glass marble, river stone and sea glass were at our disposal. She even had tile cutters and a small hammer for use as needed (no throwing tile against walls required!). One of Kwame’s brothers mixed up some thin-set mortar and we all got to it. You can see some of the results pictured above.
I love the mosaic metaphor! Yes, I can see how a life is made up of fragments. I relate to the quitting-my-job decision, as you know, but when I did it I didn’t have something to go to next. Figuring out what’s next - a creative business - has been very much like putting together a mosaic. The mosaic is made if these questions: what are my interest? What am I actually good at? What will people be willing to pay me for? What do people really need!
Your mosaic metaphor and learning something more about your own creative path is very reassuring to me!
The message I’m taking away is that breaks (deliberate or otherwise) are part of living (in fact everything breaks eventually) and then we can tap into creativity and make something new - incorporating old elements that we want to keep with new elements and letting go of the rest.