Tiny art excitement

…and a glass of water spilled

(Tiny Art by

The SneakyArt Post

)

I woke up early this morning. I felt good. Like it wasn’t hard to get out of bed. I credit getting enough sleep and the weather getting its act together. The heat dome which made our house the hot circle of Dante’s Inferno (whichever one that was) was finally over. My brain is so cooked from the weekend I don’t have the energy to look it up if any of the levels of Dante’s hell were literally hot. (I am a bad English Literature graduate)

(You can feel free to tell me your favourite circle of hell in the comments, if you like)

My weekend was such a whirlwind. One of our favourite people came to visit. Hopped on a plane on Friday, we picked them up at the airport (an hour and a half drive from our house) and we were home by midnight.

Then Saturday was adventure adventure adventure.

Sunday we drove them back to the airport.

I blinked and the weekend disappeared and I forgot to open my mail.

So when I looked at my stack of lovely letters and saw a very small package on the top from

Nishant Jain

I very literally squealed. I surprised my dog. I ran and got my scissors but did not run with them, do not worry.

And inside the tiny package was a very tiny art. So small it made my heart incredibly happy. And this art came to me because I took a chance and wrote a tiny story about one of Nishant’s wondrous tiny people. It was a contest to win a tiny art, but more than that it was an opportunity to participate in the comments in a way I felt comfortable.

I love The SneakyArt Post. Nishant makes art accessible and gives us a peek into his practice.

Plus! The art came with a gentle handwritten note saying that maybe some day I might take the sea bus to North Vancouver.

Little did he know that I had. It brought me right back to when I used to live in Vancouver in my early twenties. There were so many modes of transportation. The sky train, the sea bus, the bus…and my very own feet.

Getting around Vancouver, West Van and North Van was always an adventure. I felt so capable back then. I could get anywhere with a pass that worked for everything.

I do miss that feeling of autonomy. I lived alone. I did everything by myself without having to ask anyone, or even tell anyone.

I love my life now. I have a brilliant partner, two really wondrous kids. My own car. Two jobs I love. But darn if that tiny art didn’t make me a little nostalgic for those years in Vancouver of living by myself. (Hilariously I’m leaving out how depressed and lonely and how many nights I cried myself to sleep, but nostalgia does that, it glosses over the hard times and focuses on the magic) and I had the realization that our young friend who came by plane this past weekend, it was their first time flying alone, and that I got to witness the joy of that autonomy all these 25 years later.

Back to my tiny piece of art.

I wanted to put this new tiny sweet art in my writing room and somehow managed to kick over a full cup of water I’d left out for my pup who decided during the heat wave that she will only drink out of people objects and not bowls anymore.

So my morning started with extreme joy, and an opportunity to clean the floor of my writing corner.

But this morning I wasn’t in a rush. And I experienced no stress as a result of the spilled water. It was just a thing that happened. And that is a small magic.

The tiny art in its temporary spot until I get home from work.

The chaos of my writing desk. The joy of my writing corner.

I hope your Monday is more art and less water spilling. Whatever it is. I’m glad you exist.

Heart,

Wake