Patterns are jumping off their surfaces. Woven mats, a recycled leather scrap ‘poof’. A ‘straw’ hat from London Drugs. The artistry of synthetic materials. Small tight weaves, larger, looser stitches.
Moments of calm when my eyes would blink and I believe I could feel some kind of synapse sparking on or off or flickering between the right and left sides of my brain. The sharp and rugged landscape of my left hand, drawn by my right hand. It has me thinking of empathy, tolerance and acceptance. I heard a scholar say we need more empathy for those who aren’t like us – and less of “Oh! How awful – I have kids and they have kids – therefore now and only now can I understand/empathize with what they are going through.” Tolerance is on a sliding scale – like how I tolerate the smoke smell from my neighbours filtering/no intruding into our open door and windows.
I guess tolerating it means that I make some modifications to my environment rather than yelling or swearing or glaring around at them.
Acceptance – I tried to explain to a friend once that acceptance is an all or nothing game – you are either accepting of something or you are not. Whereas tolerance can be mild, mediocre, or severe.
So…the pandemic – government, control, division – family falling away…
where rivers are born 