Red Horses & Blue Dough

TAKING FLIGHT SCULPTURE Detail ©JKreves

 It's a good thing I'm not a '50's American housewife, because I detest ironing more than any other household chore.  Lucky for me, we rarely can't not get away with un-ironed clothing in this day and age.  I'd rather clean a bathroom than iron,  which makes my activity today quite ironic:

TAKING FLIGHT SCULPTURE from WETLANDS  ©Joy Kreves'10

I spent the afternooon in the garage ironing bamboo leaves.  I made a mini ironing board by cushioning a strip of cardboard with layers of cloth and used dryer sheets.  This was needed because I am getting a sculpture ready to show again (Verde Gallery's "Spaces" Exhibition) after it spent several months in storage.  When I took it out yesterday, I thought perhaps the myriad of dry bamboo leaves had curled a bit more than when the sculpture was initially exhibited.  I wasn't sure if I could even iron them permanently flat, but I made the mini ironing board, took the iron into the garage and went to town on the sculpture.    As I ironed my bamboo leaves, it occurred to me that this is not a normal thing to do. Your typical American does not spend afternoons ironing bamboo leaves. 

Baking blue dough.

Coming upstairs for a break, I came upon my daughter and her friend in the kitchen, staring at a big blue blob in the toaster oven.  My daughter explained that they had put food coloring into homemade dough, and were baking it.  This is when I realized that my family is not exactly "normal", either.  Things in our house are just a bit "off" from how other people live and spend their time.  When I raised my eyebrows, my daughter defended her creation by saying, "Well, you drew a red horse, so I can make blue dough!"

RED HORSE ©Joy Kreves

 
She is entirely correct, of course.  She grew up hearing my story about the red horse:

I was a child sitting on the floor, drawing alongside my older sister.  I was finding great pleasure in applying the RED crayon very heavily to create a solidly red horse.  My sister objected to my color choice, saying, "You can't make a red horse; horses aren't red!"  In that moment I suddenly understood that art was this great freedom in which you could depart from reality in whatever manner you could think of.  Of course I could make a red horse; I already had.

Art is what lets me and my daughter depart from the real world to dive into the rich world of the imagination.  Creating art can give one a feeling of great power.  Art can lead one to draw red horses, and bake blue dough.  Art is freedom pure and simple. Oddly it can also bring one full circle into doing what one most dislikes...but this time I'm ironing ironically.