Be Not Idle

In the spirit of divesting myself of material goods, I tackled the kitchen this week. Material things, in and of themselves, are not bad. However, hoarding items is. My goal was to sort out a few good things and pass them on to local charities. 

It soon became hilarious how many things I DON’T USE are in my kitchen cabinets and cupboards. When my parents were here in the fall, my mother commented that I have a variety of  cleaning supplies and really only need a few basics.

That’s nothing compared to my kitchenware. I’m keeping what matches my new set of dishes. Good-bye, personalized coffee cups! (I haven’t needed them since I stopped working at a big company where things tended to disappear.) Good-bye, hamburger press! Adios, glass carafe! 

There are also duplicates. I have two wooden cutting boards, one of which I didn’t unwrap at the housewarming.  Sissy sent me a beautiful set of towels (handpicked by her hubby JoeCool) for my birthday, so I put the others into a box and the stained ones into the ragbag. My elder brother and his family gave me a quesadilla maker just like the one I already have, so the unopened Christmas present will go.

It’s tempting to keep these things. For example, I’m apt to scratch the Teflon coating on the quesadilla maker, since I use it so often. But then again, it’s tempting to keep EVERYTHING for myself and give nothing away.

Hand-me-downs are another matter. A juicer, a badly tarnished tea strainer, a dented colander, a McDonald’s glass from when Jim Carey played the Riddler… My friends and relatives passed on their odds and ends; it’s easy to pass them on again!

St. Vincent de Paul in Port Huron gave me a number for pick-up of furniture. So that will be next week’s project.

The Lord God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of Life, and so man became a living being.

  - Genesis 2:7

As a kid, I used to imagine Adam being made of blue Play-Doh. (Because blue is a masculine color.)  I knew very little about clay. Once in a while I’d run into a patch of it while walking in a lake - a slippery mass of the blue-tinged white clay of Michigan. But it wasn’t until high school that I saw clay being used - and rather misshapen objects at that!

I’ve been taking clay class nearly a year. I joined because I had such a terrible experience with clay in high school, and I wanted a “do-over”.  It’s been wonderful! I’ve yet to use a wheel. Instead, I build things by slab and coil methods.

I’ve gone from making sculpture - like the angel that was Mom and Dad’s Christmas present - to more utilitarian objects.  I’ve gotten a good response to my work, even when they’re just sitting on the shelves near the kiln, waiting for the first firing. My teacher, Carolyn, told me that my bowls show my “signature”. I made them by using paper patterns to cut clay shapes, then layered them into a bowl. I worked from the outside in, layer by layer.

As of Thursday, I’m making tiles for my kitchen - a more durable backsplash than the stained and peeling wallpaper. I have sketched out tiles with a fruit motif to complement my Corelle Chutney dishes. I will mimic a classic Italian style by using a white glaze and a single colour per tile to accent the fruit.

At home, I have to measure the walls above the kitchen counter. I’m excited yet nervous. I face the prospect of cleaning, stripping, and preparing the walls. If I think about it, I start to worry that the tiles themselves won’t turn out. But I try to concentrate on one thing at a time: drawing, measuring, sculpting.

Truth to tell, I never thought of myself as an artist.  My best friend through grade school  is a great artist. When we were kids, she would become totally absorbed in drawing and painting. By high school, she had a maturity and a style that was very much her own. Her watercolours impressed even our teacher, who was a professional watercolour artist.  I was artistic but more of a dabbler.

Strangely enough, my skills are growing as I find reasons to make things. I suppose I’m not an artist as much as I’m a craftsman. Just like I can take an old piece of furniture or a discarded lamp and change it into something beautiful, I can make make something out of clay.  At first I was dissatisfied because what I wanted and what I produced weren’t the same thing. Gradually, however, I figured out that clay isn’t fabric or wood. It’s clay. So I let the clay be clay, and I changed my design.

Now I find satisfaction in the work itself. When I’m pressing down and forward on the clay, working the airbubbles out of it, the action is soothing even if my “rose” of clay looks more like a deformed seashell. Pressing it into slabs by running it under a roller - that’s fun. Carving into the clay and building up forms - those are like meditation because any extraneous thoughts have no room in my mind. All I can think about is what I conceive and what I’m doing at the moment.

• This Lent, I’m giving away as many material possessions as I can.  I’ve learned that material possessions interfere in my spiritual growth. I’ve learned the more I have, the less time I have. I’ve learned that writing is harder when clutter takes over my desk. I’ve learned that it’s harder to pray the Rosary when I keep thinking about the dusting, vacuuming, etc. But despite what I’ve learned, it’s hard to let go.

• I will not surf the ‘net on weekdays. Instead, I will wake earlier and spend time in prayer. 

• At work, I will bite my tongue and be more patient with my chronically upset students.

It is possible to love God with your whole heart, mind, and soul, without forcing yourself to feel any emotion whatsoever. Simply will it. Will to love God, without making yourself feel anything. The will has only one function, to say yes or no. If you want to love God, just say yes. Forget the feelings. The Lord is pleased with your holy desire, and He blesses you for it.

- Fr. John Catoir, “Joyfully Living the Gospel Day By Day”