notes from last night
(clockwise from top left):
2/ chilly mornings + vintage silk
3/ color inspirationon my studiomate's palette
4/ rainy days
For me, the two sides of autumn will always feel a bit at odds. We're torn between the energy of shorter days that ask us to slow down, to gather and rest, and the intense uptick of activity in advance of the holidays. Things have been wonderfully lively around the studio, though I do feel myself dealing with just a touch of social-media burnout. I can't be the only one, right? It isn't so simple balancing the desire to connect with the incredible creative community that works and plays just beyond all these screens with the need for a moment (or more) of analog peace and quiet.
It's warm out tonight, and raining. I left the studio early to attend a bokashi composting workshop at a community garden on 12th Street. This method of recycling food waste uses microorganisms to ferment (or pickle) food scraps, which can then be added to the soil. It seems like an elegant process, one that makes so much sense, especially for city dwellers. Our compost area at 6&B is in serious need of attention and I'm going to be looking into a grant that would help us get the supplies we need to start using this method. With microbes making headlines in the most unfortunate of ways lately, consciously entering into a harmonious agreement with a few of them seems comforting, somehow. Ancient and life-affirming. In the rainy dark, mixing the starter ingredients together with our bare hands by the glow of a flashlight, my neighbors and I.
After the workshop, I walked home in the rain, feeling optimistic. I steamed up the house making a bowl of pasta with simple garlicky sauce from a basket of fresh tomatoes, wondering if they are the season's last.
