A six minute interruption
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360
SECONDS
A Global Interruption
For months, Covid 19 has been covering the globe like a storm. A global pandemic not like anything we’ve seen in a century, it has put a stop to business as usual, including social interactions, cultural events, creative programming and global transportation.
It has been strange to watch it coming, watch how some countries have deftly piled their sandbags and boarded up the windows and some have just expected it to pass over…like the US had…until recently. Here in NYC, the storm is hitting, hard. As one of the most global and dense cities in the world, it is not unexpected. And as always, New Yorkers are responding in all ways, including creatively.
Nothing is just one thing. World emissions are down. Dolphins were seen swimming in the Venice canals. The earth has gotten a breath for once as the rest of us hold ours. People are seeing finding cracks in the economic and health systems that have always been there.
Here at Holes in the Wall Collective, like many nonprofits, we’ve been greatly affected by the coronavirus. We have had to put much of our programming on hold, including the 360 residencies– so we did a call out for people to do a teensy micro residency this last Wednesday for just 360 seconds. These were the instructions.
Look around where you are. Find----- Something you’ve neglected. Something you’d be proud to give to someone. Something you could do without. Sometime on March 25th, find somewhere in your home you can be for 6 minutes comfortably– a nook, a desk, a couch corner, the bathroom, a windowsill. Put the three things in front of you and gather any supplies you'll need. Set a timer for 360 seconds. You have 6 minutes to work.
Here’s what people did with the time…
Marjorie Morgan• North Hampton, MA
Deepti Zaremba • Leipzig Germany
Something I have Neglected: Letters I have meant to write for years; a sheet of art paper; knitting
Some thing I would be proud to give away: A collage I made, a collaged up-cycle beverage carrier, a cup of tea and a nice chat, a shared beverage, community and communication; hear and now / hear and know.
Something I can live without: Accumulated stuff, especially books and other media that tend to pile up. Stuff from others that I feel constrained to give shelf space to in order to “honor’ it. (Need more KonMarie Thank and Release!)
Prep for the Residency: notes, diary, pen, all very organized
Residency Process: color coding and drawing helps.
Links found: I am always working with other people’s creations; Words! and the absence of words; projects stopped when words fail or get hard to interpret or translate into messages that move (all meanings of that word!). One of my water bottles has the word LOVE on it. Bottle was empty, dry, and needs washing and refilling.
Residency Outcome: “Your own wild words equal a heart gift you can be proud to give. Your own wild words."
Emily Garfield • NYC
- A small pop-up city built into an index card
(what I'd be proud to give someone)
- A crystal cluster bought from someone who found it
(what I'd neglected)
- A ~18"x24" drawing I'd been meaning to unframe+discard
(what I could do without).
Linh Truong • Detroit, Michigan
Something I've neglected: sumi brush
Something I'd be proud to give to someone: handmade necklace
Something I could do without: piles of fabric
All three of these items are connected to my artistic practice. The sumi brush represents the lack of time spent on my personal art since moving to a new state. The handmade necklace is part of wearable art I've made with the purpose of gifting to the right person. The piles of fabric I've accumulated over the years represents a hoarder mentality that I've been working on to break. Recently, I spoke with my parents' about their tendency to stockpile supplies, and they reminded me of how my father was born just before the great famine of 1945 in Vietnam when nearly 2 million people died of starvation. Their lives in Vietnam up until 1975 when they jumped on a boat to escape Saigon were defined by fear, death, instability, and a shortage of resources. I am reflecting on how you approach and deal with a crisis has a lot to do with your family's personal history and perspective. I am planning to use my surplus of fabric at this time to make face masks for my local community and those in need.
Jonathan Newman • Berkeley, CA
The prompts got me thinking about neglect, pride and ownership however I could not identify any "things" that epitomized these qualities for me. I did come up with this: Sometimes I neglect my cat's invitation to play. I would be proud to give my family creative inspiration. I could do without watching TV.
Lory Dell’Anna • Berlin, Germany
The book is a present for a friend. I wanted to send it to her which I have neglected.
Spreading seeds always makes me proud. How crazy that such a small thing like a seed or a book is holding so much life. I love to live in books; it makes my mind colorful.
The stool is being used exclusively for reading. I could read without it, but it‘s less comfortable. I remember last winter like now, I was enjoying so much staying at home. I spent hours and evenings reading. But now, that I have to stay at home it‘s different.
I will keep the stool and continue reading and spreading seeds.
Amanda Wagner • Salina, KS
Item one: Neglected
Oh, man. My sketchbook is truly neglected. If I am honest, whenever a new project idea is starting to emerge, sketching feels like a ‘waste of time’ and I end up putting all my energy into (what I envision will be) the final product. Which runs counter to any wisdom from former instructors and mentors. Looking at it gives me a little anxiety. It’s so blank! And full of pressure!
Item two: Pride
I am so eager for this summer – I have grand thoughts of these babies in full bloom! These seeds (plus 10 or so more) I picked specifically for their dye/ink possibilities. I haven’t gotten too deep into the processes but I’m proud/excited by the experiments I’ve trialed so far: bottling nettle green ink or deep oak brown.
Item Three: No longer needed
I have a habit of feeling justified because I pick clothes up from thrift stores even though my closet is pretty much already at capacity. Before attending a “prescribed fire” workshop, we were instructed not to wear anything with even traces of synthetic materials. I thought it’d be a cinch but after examining label after label I realized 99.9% of my clothes were made with at least some acrylic, polyester, or spandex. I am getting this strong sense that I want to cull all of it and I am dreaming in wool, cotton, and linen.
I can see how these three items are linked, most definitely. The connective thread being an increase awareness of fiber and its possibilities within art/function. Makes me want to dig deeper, ask questions, make room for more practice.
Mikele Rauch • Waban, MA
1. Something i neglected: my taxes.
2. Something i was proud to give someone:
a singing heart i treasured that i gave to my goddaughter Shanta, who i have not seen in 10 years for her 40th birthday
and
a piece of art...
3. something i could do without:
a chotchke of a musical chord. I will not neglect music, but i can let go of the paraphernalia.
i have not time for another project.
but i will....
Diana Clarke•Pittsburgh, PA
Every morning when the weather is bearable, a word whose meaning in Pittsburgh, nearly always clouded and raw with cold half the year, is flexible, my downstairs neighbor hires someone to stand on the sidewalk in front of our building wearing crushed-velvet robes whose green color is meant to evoke oxidized copper, but which are really more of a mint if I’m honest. (Verde que te quiero verde: in quarantine over and over again I read Natalie Diaz writing about a lover and writing about Lorca.) The stranger on the sidewalk, the lines of whose body I know so well from passing by them every day on the way to the bus, wears a spiky foam crown: advertising for Liberty Tax Services, they are the Lady. Liberty is the name of the avenue I live on, which makes it easy to avoid the implications of the word itself.
The tax office is always empty when I pass by. Sometimes the owner with a cloud of grey hair chain smokes below the fire escape. Sometimes the only other employee tells me to move my car. Today I move my car and I scrape his Lexus, parked right in the spot where I can’t see it as I shift into reverse. The owner assures me from under her thatch that he won’t be upset. He is upset. It is the fourteenth day of quarantine and I am heading to pick up groceries from a closing restaurant distribution center for some friends who can’t leave their houses. I am shaking as I hand him my license; he makes a copy. Outside is stunning, sunny. I regret failing my friends. Even leaving the house I can’t get outside of myself.
Audrey Scott • Butler, PA
I recently picked up making jewelry again (see Picture Two “necklace”), because I spring- cleaned and found my old materials, unused after five years. I have been making jewelry as creative procrastination from my current writing project, which I have been neglecting (see Picture One “notebooks”).
Originally, I sighed, noted, and accepted this trend as adjustment to more indoor time. However, I have found that one creative work helps to fuel and focus another, regardless of the style or form.
It acts as a buffer and a visual, tangible break. The writing I have completed has been more clear and inventive. Of course, there has to be balance between mediums, and I hope to shift more energy towards writing now. Usually, I walk to a coffee shop for a break from writing, (see Picture Three “coffee cup”). But coffee shop coffee is something I can do without; it is not a necessity. I have coffee at home to brew.
Laurie Olinder • NYC
I admit- I have neglected to clean my paint water, and now I can see that I’ve also neglected to clean up my desk. I have done a painting that I would be proud to give away- I also see that I could give away as a present some beach stones and some seaglass. This one big rock is not really that great looking and I should probably get rid of it. But haven’t which is why my desk is so full of stuff... it was hard for me to come up with what I would get rid off on my desk.
And it only felt right to do it ourselves…
Dhira Rauch • NYC
Julia Meeks • NYC
