Edible Thoughts: Reflections on Home and Creativity

Tiny harvestmen. Collectors and good fortune bringers.

I’ve become rather fond of their company in the corners of our windows. I dust a bit more carefully around their webs. I greet the one in the kitchen window at least once a day. That one is the biggest. I’ve seen it eat several house flies. It’s exhilarating and deeply satisfying for us both. It’s copacetic. Positively symbiotic.

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I would have never experienced this fondness without the imperfect, almost 60 yr old windows in our duplex. The windows are not flush to the frame so they’re able to easily come right in. We don’t fight it, we just let it happen. We are lucky enough to be surrounded by nature. The greenery, the birdsong, the stray neighborhood cats, the bugs all in between, bringing it all to life. It’s a routine comfort I don’t take for granted. It feels like the whole world sometimes.

Our old sofa is in the alley out back. It’s gone through rain and wind and shine. A couple of teenagers were even caught kissing on it the other day. Now, two giant stuffed animals sit there. A pink bunny and a brown bear. I didn’t realize proper arrangements needed to be made to get rid of it. This is our first ever new couch. But I like that others have been able to squeeze a little more life out of it. I was starting to feel bad because I can see it from the living room window. The sad abandoned couch. Now it’s something else, transformed, anew. What a relief that is!

The aesthetic of our duplex is the least of my concerns. Not that it isn’t cute, not that I’m not still looking for the perfect curtains or floor lamps or rugs or artwork. But mostly, I want it to be clean and functional. I want to be able to cook and clean with ease. I want to be able to find the clothes I’m looking for. But overall, I want us to be able to relax here. And we do. Deliciously. Maybe too well. Sometimes it feels like we have the whole world in here. Sometimes it feels like nothing else matters. We made this life with our own hands and the hands of time. I couldn’t feel more proud or more grateful to be a part of this joint effort.

I pour a lot of energy into tending to our place. I find it meditative. It’s especially soothing when I manage to strong arm my way through the thoughts and judgements of internalized patriarchal thinking. At first, I thought it was familial and social conditioning, I would think to myself, “Why am I assuming all of these duties? Alex never asked me to do all the laundry, do the dishes, etc etc.” And I thought back to my childhood, with my Aunty who would diligently teach my sister and I the “proper” way to clean. Or how I assumed the position of the dutiful, accommodating, helpful, pleasing person. And it happened so naturally that I couldn’t always tell where I begin and it ends. And sure these things factor. But what I’ve concluded is that I simply enjoy doing it.

It’s so easy to demean housework. And I get why. I judge myself for it all the time. Ultimately, I look forward to wielding this type of control over my life. The way I see it, when you boil down the literal act of cleaning and organizing something that was once in filthy disarray, you find a universal truth: action and reaction. And in a time when I’ve been experiencing a creative drought, creative blocks, low confidence, doubts, shame, and fear, it has been comforting to remember that I am still making and unmaking things.

I clean the kitchen so I can mess it up again. So that I can make a new recipe. A new soup. A new tapa. A new loaf.

I was starting to think I would never make anything again. Or rather, I stopped being able to recognize all the ways I was already in the act.

I figured I had become minced meat in the corporate grind. Mainly because I have all these made up rules about what real artistry and creativity are. But they make me feel so bad about myself that I end up feeling like a caged wild animal. So I’m changing my rules.

The new rules are that being alive every day is an act of creation. Waking up, doing my best, learning to be compassionate and honest with myself, going to work, going to school, keeping in touch with my loved ones, buying organic groceries when I can, steam cleaning the floors, lighting non toxic candles, seasoning my cast iron skillet, these are life creating actions.

Creation is a big act. It’s a small act. It’s a quick act. It’s a slow act. It’s a mundane act. It’s a transformative act. It’s a solitary act. It’s a connecting act. It’s everything. It’s anything. Inhale, exhale. Create breath. Inhale, exhale long enough and you create life. We’re doing it right now!! And we’re doing it together!! <3

Edit: I wrote this a few weeks ago and am sad to say the Daddy Long Legs have all mysteriously vanished. I think it’s just the changing of seasons. It’s warmer outside now. They left before I could thank them for the lessons they’ve taught me! Oh well.

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