Hi friends,
Happy Friday! I am enjoying writing these letters.
If you have specific questions about a letter, would you let me know? I care about your reading experience.
Thank you for reading. I send you love.
Xiao-Yu
Letter No. 12
J,
I woke up with a nightmare today. We were in an old cathedral. There was screaming in the background and we were running away from something. I was the only non-white face in this dream. That helps me to know it is my dream. Blood was running next to us and you kept on slipping. I wasn’t sure if you were bleeding. There was someone with a rubber looking arm that’s helping other people and I was trying to drag you over to her. By the time she was reaching her rubber arm into the left side of your body, I woke up. I felt tense. My heart was racing. I habitually rolled over to your side of the bed and laid there for a minute. That’s the start of my day.
I can’t stop thinking about her rubber hand, the blood river, the cathedral ceiling, and the echo of crying chasing after us. It was an intense dream. I should take a break from the news. We had school shootings in the papers recently. I feel exhausted. I am taking it easy today. Writing to you has become my new daily ritual. You are my happy place.
I didn’t make the expected progress with my new project. My plan is to create a collection of work that allows people to experience art as if they were deaf – painting, music, poetry and dance. I am vomiting everything out post research, and oscillating between “this is going to be my best work” and “I am not the right person for this project”. It is helpful to remind myself that, as long as I am in my studio daily, I am making progress. Small steps forward. The creative process is humbling, regardless of whether you are a master or a beginner. You bump up against yourself from different angles. You see clearly what you are missing and how impossible it is to match what’s in front of you vs what’s in your head. If you can be radically honest and compassionate towards yourself, you have a chance of creating a finished piece of work. I love my work. I let it consume all of me and push me into new frontiers of myself. I wish you could meet this new me today. You’d fall in love with her.
I am writing to you in my studio right now. I have shifted things around. I am building a longer table and adding wheels to my old one. The half painted door is finished. I decided on bright yellow with my name in blue and white. When I get stuck with a project, I get creative with procrastination. I do think there is something helpful about making stuff with my own hands. The act often leads me to good ideas. I am giving myself permission to procrastinate a bit.
I have started designing a curriculum for my upcoming meeting in New York. The course is about how to form a creative vision for any project and have the vision guide the creative process. I feel excited about the potential of this course. It will be mostly project based. I am envisioning a semester-long project with weekly creative work submission, and process, research related documentation. I can’t wait to see what the young minds create. It is going to be a tough course. I am letting myself feel the excitement even though the school needs to go through more vetting and committees need to sign off on the curriculum and me. Do you think they’d care about my speeding tickets? I am a fairly stand-up citizen. Wouldn’t you agree?
I am thinking about what I will do with the letters I am writing to you. Do you think it will impact your sister and her work? Should I have her read them? I don’t write much about her intentionally. She did share with me that if I want to have any secrets, I should keep them in my own head. I thought deep and hard about secrets. I don’t want any. I’d prefer to travel light.
By the way, your sister is doing well. Motherhood didn’t soften her. I am going to tidy up and call it a day.
All my love,
Hannah
