I am not a corporation,
a production line or a one person factory.
Like a great meal, the experience of my soap might be equally as temporary in duration. Unlike a great meal soap won’t increase your waistline, and you might be able to enjoy this etheric bathing experience for up to a month.
I have been thinking about this, making soap, who I am in relation to the craft of making soap, and other existential concepts. I realized I don’t ever have to make the same soap again, or, I might. I take solid notes, however, I’m in a trance while I make soap. I listen to an audio book or some rabbit-hole podcast and go off, in the non-thinking artistic world I’ve lived much of my life.
I might be inspired one day to stand at my work table and make chickens and eggs, mindlessly rolling, sculpting and molding soft soap, and another day researching how a goat lays down and if I can duplicate that in soap. I might be reading about how oils work together, how much oil is actually left on the skin and if that is a “good thing” or what types of detergents I’ve been using most of my life that I took no responsibility for letting seep into the water table. All this without regard to how, exactly, it can be duplicated, replicated and mass produced, like the corporate world has taught us.
Make a widget and sell thousands at a low price or make some very expensive widgets and sell a few.
What if there was another way?
I do want to understand the chemistry, the science and on a deeper level, the alchemy behind this craft. Believing one can turn lead into gold is one thing, knowing you can do it, an entirely different animal. And then doing it a second time? Now, that’s something!
I allow myself to wonder and wander. I take long, fantastical journey’s on how to take a shower with part of a pirate’s treasure box, or if I’d even want to. I allow myself to be inspired by colors, textures, fragrances and tall tales. I love fish stories. Stories that grow into magical realism and bigger than life. I like the idea of magical things; of possibilities; reminding myself of impermanence.
I saw Buddhist monks making a sand mandala, which is blown away after created, the other day (on a show) and thought, how lovely. They embraced the idea of impermanence. Can I do the same with soap? Can I put all my efforts, detail mindedness and passion in one loaf of soap knowing it will disappear in a short time?
Oh, the answer is simple and just brought another level to my world.