Things I’m Grateful For


 

I’m grateful for red-orange oil pastels. And for the way the shapes melt onto the paper, but also hold their form. For the way the lipstick-like smoosh of the crayon meets the chartreuse and they clasp hands and run around skipping and singing.

I’m grateful for the sheerness of rice paper, for the way it drapes over my hand when dipped in the wet glue. I’m even grateful for the way it tears when and where I don’t want it to because it has become heavier than its delicate texture can bear.

And then grateful again when it falls in disarray onto the red-orange and chartreuse dancing shapes, throwing a veil over their exuberance.

I’m grateful for the way, as it dries, the paper becomes whiter and whiter and stronger. It is no longer sagging, but is now crisp and can be folded, drawn on again, and torn or cut.

I’m grateful for the way it feels starched once I’ve glued two layers together and let it dry. When I tear the paper, I am grateful for the soft edges that are controlled yet random, and grateful for the sharp edge that comes when I snip the scissors along the other side.

I’m grateful that there is something in my life that lets me play, that teases me into thinking I have control and at the same time into realizing that things will fall where they may, but there can still be singing and dancing.

 
Kieran Riley Abbott