Have finally reached an end
Loneliness and empty days will be my only friend
From this day love is forgotten
I’ll go on as best I can
What lies in the future is a mystery to us all
No one can predict the wheel of fortune as it falls
There may come a time when I will see that I’ve been wrong
But for now this is my song
And it’s goodbye to love
I’ll say goodbye to love
You could say for the past 20 years I’ve been in a co-dependent relationship…
with coffee
How is it a co-dependent relationship? Coffee needs me and the billion other addicts to compete with the big global commodities. Actually, it is a big global commodity. It is often second in value only to oil as a source of foreign exchange to developing countries. But that is not the point of this post. A couple weeks ago we got our second drawing assignment in Michael’s class.
Drawing assignment 2: Drawing Appendages
Design a drawing accessory for your body that will hold a drawing implement. When designing the implement, think about how your drawing accessory will enable you to record a gesture more easily than without it. Choose a gesture that you feel comfortable making repeatedly, then design an accessory that will enable you to wear your drawing tool rather than hold it in your hand. In thinking about this gesture and performing the drawing, create and follow a system.
When I started brainstorming ideas for this project, I had a difficult time accepting that my accessory could not be held in my hands. Moreover, it bothered me that it bothered me. Then I realized simultaneously that it bothered me because I wouldn’t have as much control manipulating the accessory, which is precisely the point of the assignment. This got me thinking, hand equals fine motor or control. What would it be like to lose my hands? I concocted all sorts of experiments in my head where I would deny myself the use of my hands for a length of time. This, in turn, led me to contemplate the broader concept of loss and grief.
Convention says there are 5 stages to grief: 1) Denial/Disbelief; 2) Anger/Blaming others; 3) Bargaining; 4) Sadness/Depression; and finally 5) Acceptance.
In theory, these stages aren’t difficult for me to grasp or even relate to but I always find the last stage, acceptance, the most difficult to come to terms with when I’m grieving myself. (I also wonder where guilt fits into this picture.) One thing that helps me accept loss is if I can honor it by performing a ritual, something that symbolizes a letting go.
Upon landing in Fargo, I gave up drinking coffee. My dependence on caffeine over the years (20 to be exact) has been pretty steady. I usually average 1.5 cups per day but there have been times in my life when I drink 3 cups per day, never more than that but always at least one. I can say with certainty that I have been dependent on it’s stimulating qualities for my mind and body for over half my life so it was with great sadness that I said goodbye to my love this March.
It’s not just its stimulating effects that I had become addicted to but also the rituals I created around making it and drinking it. Whether I boil water, grind my beans and use a french press, hand drip a cup, or steam it in one of those Italian stove-top dealios, I enjoy my morning ritual of the preparing it just the way I like it. And the SMELL! Oh, the smell. Sigh. I can only describe it as heaven.
For this assignment, I wanted to perform a drawing with coffee as an act of letting go. I spent some time observing my body, specifically my arm, while sipping tea from a mug. I decided to attach my appendage to my arm to record the act of drinking. I made a cast of my left arm using plaster casting material. When it was nearly dry, I cut a seam along my the forearm up through my thumb and slipped my arm out, then sealed it together with more casting material. I made sure my hand was in the shape of holding a mug.
How to attach the appendage to my right arm proved to be a conundrum as the cast arm holding a mug of coffee is one, not light, but two, very awkward as it had to essentially clamp onto my right arm. Damn, I should have made one with a double sided grip. I was also worried about whether or not the hollow forearm would have enough structure to act as a lever. I labored over this for what seemed like eternity but in reality was all of two days. Somehow I landed on tongs. I bought a pair of generic kitchen tongs and proceeded to experiment with how it would work. I used paper maché to fill in the fingers and hand but also act as a glue to hold the tongs in the right position. I had to set the tongs so that I could barely fit my arm between the opening to ensure a solid hold. This is the point where I realized this was going to involve pain but I wasn’t about to start over. Besides what’s not painful about withdrawal and loss? The appendage was ready for action.
I decided to use canvas again as the surface would need to be absorbent, plus aesthetically, I like the no-frills look of raw canvas. I set up two chairs– one for me and one for the canvas. It was like there were 2 of us sitting side by side: me and my coffee-drinking former self.
Liz Penny was visiting me and the Fargo Aikido community so I enlisted her help as my assistant. I had her bandage the appendage onto my right arm and assist me with documentation. Thanks LP!
To enact the drawing, I sat in the chair holding my mug of tea in my right hand. Just above my right elbow, the appendage was bandaged tightly to my arm, sticking out to my right side above a chair draped with canvas, poised for action. As I sipped my tea, the appendage, dripped (more like poured) coffee onto the canvas. It was not a the relaxing ritual that drinking your morning tea or coffee should be. The appendage with coffee was very heavy causing the tongs to dig into my skin under the bandage, but giving up coffee has been no walk in the park so a few minutes of pain was rather fitting. It took less than 10 minutes to perform the drawing but much to my surprise, the drawing continued for the next 3 hours. The way the canvas was positioned on the chair, the coffee pooled in the seat. To add to that, the canvas has a water resistant quality to it that I had not anticipated. I made a slight adjustment to the canvas on the seat to allow for more flow. It took 3 hours for the coffee to drip its way through and down the canvas, a beautiful weeping-like process.
I say Goodbye to Love
