Saturday was our very first Open Art Lab, and I really, really, really liked it. Sometimes art is a grand and laboriously intentional endeavor (or intentionally unintentional one). And, other times it’s an excuse to kick it with the fam. With this fam, obligation is no weighty tombstone. You’re never lassoed to Venus when your heart says Pluto or told you have thirty seconds to find your #2 Ticonderoga. Play can be productive, and things that are fun to be fun can be fruitful.
For instance, at the Art Lab I made a friend. I don’t remember his name, but that doesn’t matter. He was a strong looking guy with memorable chest hair who, in the right light and the wrong places, could intimidate with ease. I definitely assumed he’d stand a respectable distance from the bucket of markers, a toxic sandpit for manly manliness, but it’s awesome how wrong I was. He was the only person who came in and just started folding up origami cranes without needing guidance. The dude told me the story of why he’s such a black belt crane-folding master, and it’s because he’s the best person ever. Check it: he said that when he was younger, he’d pick up trash if he saw it on the street (PAUSE which is a totally underrated feat because, let’s be real, if I saw trash, there’s a one in five chance I’d relocate it to the trash can, and I went to college, y’all PLAY), and if the trash was foldable, he’d craft a crane and place it close to where he found it.
Here’s the adorable part. One day, he walked onto a train in Boston, found trash, folded it to a crane, and placed it on the window sill, per usual. Soon afterwards, a great, big, grumpy man stormed in scaring the apps off his phone, yelling, yelling, yelling. He ended his call in a fury and was about to probably kick a kitten when he looked over and saw the tiny trash crane. He took his great, big, grumpy fingers and delicately picked up the crane by its tail, took a seat, rested the crane on his open palm, and sat with it until getting off at his stop.
DON’T YOU WANNA MAKE TINY TRASH CRANES ALL THE TIME NOW??! OMG real time, no joke, some TP just flew off the butt of a garbage truck that just rolled through (also remembering I forgot to take my trash out). TOTALLY A SIGN: ‘bout to crane the WORLD #stopkittenkicking.
Anyways, shit like this makes me want to art-lab every day. And, I’m not even playing up the ridiculous amount of skill that was swimming in the room. Watch out, world. Dancing meets graphic design meets photography meets videography meets beats meets illustration meets BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE WHO WANNA LOVE AND BE LOVED IN THE BEST WAYS THEY KNOW HOW.
If you read this, I really, really, really hope to see you at the next Open Art Lab (every third Saturday, 1-4pm). Shit’s gorgeous, in a manly origami kind of way.