A letter for me.

“Write me my affirmations.” I directed Alyssa. There wasn’t a whole lot for her to do at the meeting while we fiddled with the laser downstairs.

“But I don’t have anything to write on.”

I sighed, knowing that I would gladly leap to solve any problem she had, but probably shouldn’t. “You are not helpless. You are a very clever girl. I have faith in you.”

“Okay, MARK.” She spat her husband’s name at me with a tone I recognized, on that I had used before, substituting the name Josh instead. It took me until this moment to realize what a weak argument that was.

“Wow, that’s really your response?” I had already started walking backwards out of the room and could no longer see her.

She raised her voice. “If you’re gonna say things like him, I’m gonna call you on it.”

“Maybe he’s just right.”

She yelled vivaciously from the other room, full of defiance and spitfire. “NO. THAT COULD NEVER BE THE CASE.” I smiled as I went down the stairs, wondering if she’d actually work on it. After all, I had given her the assignment of writing down positive things about me about two weeks ago.

She came down to the shop a little while later, and began playing with my hair. She smirked, saying that she was gonna “Pippi Longstocking” me. As she pulled my hair into short, tight braids, I sighed and resigned myself to my fate. Then, presumably bored, she traipsed upstairs again to see what Denise was up to.

I wandered the space. I found a chunk of plexiglas that someone had lasered something out of, leaving several inches of wasted space in the material. I picked it up and walked over to Mark. “One thing that I really hate about this place is that there’s not a single person that has a clue how to use materials effectively.”

He was less miffed, and being his traditionally sassy self. “Out of all the things that are wrong in the world, including your hair, that is what you focus on?”

“You’re one of them, you know.” I said, thinking back to several times that I’ve seen him set up materials.

“Yes, I’m one of the things that are wrong with the world.”

Despite the fact that he’s one of the most important and productive people that are involved with the makerspace, there’s no point in engaging with him while he’s having an incompetence fit. I headed back upstairs.

First thing I did was head to the fridge to grab a soda. As I walked towards her, Alyssa hissed at me and shielded the papers she had strewn out around her. I guess she really was working on my letter. I smiled and went towards Denise instead.

When the first set of puzzle piece structure was finished in the laser, I asked Mark “Is there a method to the madness here? Which ones are which?” Each segment had 6 pieces and the pair of them were slightly different. He explained the order and I opened up the laser to pick them out. Knowing the difference between the pieces, I felt confident that I knew what I was doing, so I just scooped them together and plucked them up randomly.

“So I guess it doesn’t matter even if there was an order.”

I smiled brightly and shook my head.

Mark sighed as he put in the next sheet. “Thanks sweetie.”

When Alyssa handed me an envelope, I beamed at her. I was very excited. It was thick with several sheets and had my first and middle name on it in cheery, loopy handwriting.

“If that’s not still sealed by the time we leave here today, I take back everything I said in it.”

“Okaayy…”

Denise left early, wishing us the best as it had taken her and Stacey 6 hours to put together the tab and slot structure. Mark went to the auto parts store, hoping to fix the forklift. This left Alyssa and I alone with all the paperboard pieces of the prototype. We worked industriously and listened to Andrew Bird.
After Mark showed up again, I stole his abandoned pair of glasses and put them on.
He didn’t when he sat down. I came to the end of the first side of the construction, and began to fiddle with the second spiral. “Yeah, you can do this part. I don’t wanna.”

Alyssa graciously began inserting and bending tabs, very quickly becoming adept at it. The spiral spun and spun and spun some more. Mark fiddled on his phone, periodically showing something interesting to us or reading bits of an article. Alyssa was reaching the end of the spiral again, about a half hour later when she exasperatedly said “Are you really not gonna notice that she’s wearing your glasses?”

“Why should I care?” Ever so generous, that one.

We spent a little time fiddling with the various lenses and then came the question.

“What do we do now?”

“I guess we go home.”

They began packing up. Mark stalked up behind me and wordlessly pulled his glasses from my face. I glared at him. “What?” There are times I feign anger just so that I get to enjoy the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles defensively.

We hugged, we left, I came home, I wrote. And now I have a letter to read.

I can’t wait.

Gear Ball

gearball

 

This was the logo for GRMakers for awhile, a local makerspace that I’m affiliated with. I was asked to make a sign that we could put on the chest of a fire breathing dragon at Artprize. This was part one of the sign.

The design was flame cut, ground clean, then blued along the defining lines with a TIG torch.

Call it good.

“I’ve been treading water.” I came into therapy with an immediate admission of guilt- I’ve not been writing. I’ve been sleeping instead of living. I lamented my laziness. That’s what it’s always been treated as.

Kathy immediately countered with “What if you’re not being lazy? What if it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism? Someone that’s abused has a hard time envisioning a life where they aren’t abused. So they seek out familiarity. You’ve said yourself that you don’t know what it means to be happy. It’s very normal for people to have a ‘default mode’ that they switch back to.” She alluded back to my first words. “You’re going back to your default to avoid having to swim.”

“If you don’t know how to move forward, you’ll seek familiarity. You’re learning how to be a new you, to be happy.” The shaft of light that’s been progressing across the room is getting closer to hitting her eyes and I wonder why she doesn’t shift to run away from it, at least for a little while.

I don’t know what a new me will look like. I don’t even really know what the old me looked like. Pretty sure I hate them both. I asked “How will I know that the me I am, the me I’m becoming, the me I will be, is a worthwhile one?”

“Good question. How indeed?”

“I guess I have to look to others because people that fall short of the standards that society sets, or the ones that aren’t contributing to the GDP or whatever, I still think they have worth.”

Her reply was a rigorous batch of finger quotes. I don’t think her fingers stopped wagging at any point. “Those that don’t ‘Measure up’ or ‘have value’ by ‘societies standards’ of ‘worth’ are still worthwhile and you know that. So on some level you must know that about yourself.”  She gives me a gentle smile. “I think you just give up on yourself too quickly.”

“Grandma saw your value, right?”
“I don’t know that.” I tend to view it as a sort of “gotcha” technique when she invokes the name of my recently deceased grandmother, but I don’t argue with the fact that it’s highly effective.
“Would grandma have wanted for you to give up on life? To kill yourself?”
This is an easy question. I actually start laughing through the tears. No, she absolutely would not have and several times she was the reason I didn’t.
“So you know that, even if you can’t quite put it into words. And if you can know that, there will be other knowings.” She finally shifts to avoid the beam of light. It was driving me crazy.

We transition somehow into the topic of creating.
I ask her if she tells all her clients to create or if I’m special.
“Yes, we are all creating. It’s what we’re supposed to do. I’m a person of faith, I don’t know where you stand with that, but I think God created us to be creators. To create with him. When you create, you are bringing yourself strongly into the world.”

“If you’ve stopped creating, if you’ve given up to just lie in bed, of course you aren’t going to feel purpose and joy. People create with words, things, ideas. It’s supposed to be fun. It’s like God says ‘I gave you this huge big world, enjoy it!’ Look at it from the perspective of ‘How can I go out in the world and create today?’ Co-create with God. Have fun. Enjoy life.”

“Some people like to live in very prescribed ways, they don’t want to be challenged. It’s safer living that way, though it limits their creativity. You are not one of those people, don’t try to live like you are.”

“Poets, prophets, artists, musicians, they are on the fringe of society because they think outside the box. Artists challenge society. But we can’t force them to think the way society does. You’ve been dealing with being different by assuming you are flawed or broken. I don’t fit in, therefore I’m bad. What you don’t see is that you’re brilliant. You have the ability to see beyond what’s there. You’re not bad, broken, lazy or flawed. Those are labels that you’ve accepted. I’m challenging that, I’m suggesting that it was never true.”

“Maybe you’re buying into those thoughts because you don’t fit into somebody’s idea of what it means to be productive(I use that word a lot). I wish I could just shake you!” She looks visibly exasperated while she gesticulates at the writing I’ve brought in to give to her.

“Van Gogh was never appreciated in his time and it caused him to be very depressed. I just wish that he could have listened to his critics and talked back to them a bit. ‘That’s not how you do it. Clearly it’s not. It is the way that I do it.’”

“So have your voice. Express what’s inside. Maybe people will judge, because that’s what society likes to do, but you have to remember that those are the insecure people who like to live in very prescribed ways. I have no intent of doing that or aspiring to be that.”

“Approach every day as an opportunity to create, and it brings with it a sense of peace and happiness.”

“There’s still our prophets, our creators, our edge live-ers. I’m okay with that, because they’ve got something to say.”

“You have a voice, you have creative abilities, please don’t stifle it. Please don’t take yourself out of the game. That’s what you are doing when you just stay in bed.”

“God made some crazy things, and he called them good. So create, and call it good.”

Woogity Woogity

“It’s just flat not gonna go.” I was quite certain about changing out the reciprocating saw blade for a different style.
“That is absolutely not what you say about that.” He picked up the new blade and walked over to the bench grinder.
“You gonna inflict some positivity on it?” I remained skeptical.
“It’s not whether it will work, it’s what are you gonna do to make it work.” It took a few trips to the grinder and back, but he reshaped the blade enough to make it work.
“There.” He tightened the blade into place. “See if it’s got the woogity woogity.”
It did.

I always wonder about whether that type of fiddling is worthwhile. It just seemed like a worthless distraction when I could surely find another way to expand the hole. After all, he was under the gun for four different projects, and he still took the time to tighten up the sledgehammer after I had noticed it and saw that the head was loose. We hadn’t even known where it was for the past several weeks. It was not important to do. He should have been working on wiring the Nissan. But as soon as he heard something was wrong with it, he pulls himself away to fix it. After all, if something can be improved by your presence, you should do it. That’s just the way he is. Distractable, for one.

Did some discovery.

 

photo-1

I was given this sketch of a drawing and told to fabricate a part. Plenty of information!

 

photo

Here’s a little farther along.

 

The drill that I was using had been sharpened with a Drill Doctor, and as such was cutting about as well as a piece of toast would have. It wasn’t a drill, it was a clever imposter.

Some cutting and some bending later, and it almost looked like a real part!

 

photo-2

 

Until we realized that the swing on the hinge was off. Once we corrected that, it became obvious that the window needed to be larger. Since fixturing and modding the old part is about as much work to start over with a new part, I will be starting over with a new chunk of steel tomorrow.

 

It’s a rough feeling, knowing that you didn’t actually accomplish anything. I mentioned it to my dad.

 

 

“I feel like we’re back where we started.”

 

He countered “But we’re a lot smarter.”

 

“I’ll try to think of it like that.” I’m not very good at thinking positively.

 

“It had to happen. That’s what I mean when I say I engineer by discovery. We did some discovering.”

 

 

My day at work

teeth

Turns out that fiberglass will dull a blade really quickly.
My dad likes to casually mention the things that he would do if he hadn’t started his business. Sometimes it “I should have been an engineer for thirty years and then retired into doing what I do now.” Sometimes it’s wishing to be a pilot. Today, it was showing off a clever little chunk of bent steel meant for one of the handicap vehicles and declaring “When I grow up, I wanna be a fabricator.”

When he works, examining around things, checking for interferences, he’ll sucks his breath through his teeth when he discovers something he’d rather not have to deal with. He clicks the plastic of his teeth alignment mouth guards together as he works a way around the problem in his mind.

spring clamps

We couldn’t find enough spring clamps, so we improvised with a set of jumper cables.

When it comes to fabricating, any line is better than no line. The line you try to create with your mind is going to be off by the time you reach the end of it. Had an experience with that today.

A lady on the radio warbled “write your story” repetitively. I heard “Rightous Tory.” Righteous Tory sounds like a she’d be a bitch.