Week 11: Mystery-Magic Enchantment
“source of enchantment”
Collage, cut New Yorker Magazine paper, 9" x 12", inspired by Ana Juan’s “Metamorphosis”
If you’ve been reading along each week, first off, thank you!
Without you, I’m pretty sure I would not be writing. And I’m enjoying the weekly writing practice as much as the art practice. Secondly, you might remember from last week’s post that I’m developing a new addiction.
I really enjoy looking at other artists’ Instagram feeds—their fast-motion demos, their really gorgeous Insta grids, their behind-the-scenes personal posts. I find Instagram to be a little more innocuous than Facebook and Twitter. So it’s nice to indulge in creative beauty there.
One cool thing did happen on Facebook, though. Are you familiar with the Buy Nothing communities? You can find a group in your neighborhood, and members post things that they want to give away, or they put out a request for something they’re looking for. No money is exchanged for anything.
I’ve belonged to my neighborhood’s group for a while now, but I’ve never participated in any way except for browsing. A good friend is an administrator of the page, so she texted me the instant a post popped up that she knew would interest me: free New Yorker magazines!
I jumped on it. And I only had to travel a few blocks to (contactlessly) pick up SEVENTY-ONE new (to me) issues from a generous neighbor I’ve only met online. I am set for the rest of this challenge, and I think I have enough to be selective about which issue I use each week.
That’s important to me. I am seeking transformation within and without, so I try to be discerning about what I put into my brain. There’s a reason I haven’t watched Handmaid’s Tale. I’m sure it’s great. I’m just in no mood for dystopian entertainment.
I’m rarely in the mood for nostalgia either. I tend to prefer looking forward if I can’t keep myself in the present. But, I confess, this week it was refreshing to venture all the way back to 2014 with my New Yorker of choice.
The theatre scene was thriving. Previewing or opening soon were shows like Bullets Over Broadway, Cabaret (with Alan Cumming and Michelle Williams), Heathers: The Musical, and A Raisin in the Sun directed by Atlanta’s Kenny Leon.
And there was no mention of a pandemic.
“Metamorphosis” by Ana Juan @anajuan_art
The New Yorker, March 24, 2014
The cover art is by Ana Juan (@anajuan_art), a Spanish artist who has done a lot of New Yorker covers. This one is called “Metamorphosis.”
I mean. How could I resist? We ARE in the middle of a metamorphosis, aren’t we? Please? I hope.
I’d like to think that these Buy Nothing communities are a sign of that change. I know they’ve been around since before the pandemic, but I think it’s a wonderful way of rethinking our collective addiction to consumerism and our scarcity mentality. It also cultivates connection and mutual support.
That’s the great thing about the artist communities I’m discovering on Instagram. Mutual support, sharing, empowering, uplifting. I’m grateful to have found some inspiration from them this week via #dtiys—an invitation from one artist to others to “draw this in your style.” What a fun way to share creativity!
As you can see, I took Ana Juan’s butterfly and flew with it. Mine is called “source of enchantment.” If a caterpillar spinning itself into a silky cocoon and emerging as a butterfly isn’t “mystery-magic” enchantment, I don’t know what is.
I try to work my own mystery-magic enchantment as I make each collage. I’m not sure if this world will come out of its pandemic cocoon as a completely transformed thing of beauty, but that is my prayer. A beautiful world based in Love, unity, community. A world that is reëvaluating what it defines as “essential.”
I am examining my own essentials. What am I attached to? Is it really essential? Am I clutching onto it tightly? Can I live without it? Not just that which no longer serves me but that which brings me joy as well? Can I give it away without feeling loss? If I am holding onto “mine” with clenched fists, how will there ever be room in my hands for more?
If I am so attached to my identity as a caterpillar, that cocoon is no doubt a dark and painful place to dwell. Do you think the caterpillar knows what it’s about to become? Or does it just spin the next thread, then the next, then the next, and trust the process?
It’s a mystery. And magical. And infinitely more enchanting than dystopia. I’ll take it. And I’m happy to share it.
Detail — “source of enchantment”
Can you guess which famous film actress that eyeball belongs to? Let me know in the comments.
THIS WEEK’S FEATURED CARTOON
