Reorganization of my physical and digital clutter brings me great satisfaction. I feel orderly, accomplished, and reductive (in a good way), distilling my belongings down to only those I really need: a capsule wardrobe, a Marie Kondo-ed utensil drawer, a blank MacBook desktop.
This month (+) at home brought this to a new level. I never thought I would say that I have an orderly collage paper library. But there, I said it.
I have been struggling with book writing because of crisis parenting, crisis homeschooling, and generalized anxiety. The real work has been on and off this past month. But the fake work has been flowing. Like tidying, collage is almost meditative for me. I have been working in the medium for years — scrapbooking, paper dollhouses, and storyboarding picture-book dummies. But with the recent re-emergence of zine-making on the internet, I think I re-discovered my preferred genre of my early 00’s, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Brookline Booksmith or Newbury Comics for stretches of time, absorbed in these hand-made and sometimes bad and often brilliantly produced little publications called zines.
Reading and studying and steeping oneself with the masters usually comes before artists grant themselves permission to make but it’s not so with zines. If you have an inkling, go ahead. Make one. They are small (easily put-away-able) and can be done with children about. They’re involved enough to require some attention and devotion but not precious. They’re scrappy like a well-loved cat who plops in your lap and then gets up and does something else.
So what is your tidying? What is your collage? What are your zines? What are you allowing yourself to let go of during this time of crisis? And to those of you who are sick, caring for sick, or can’t let go of your work because you are essential, I applaud you, in awe.
