Ah, good, you found this letter in a bottle washed up in your inbox. Apologies if the parchment is wet and the ink smudged, it wasn't yet dry when I rolled it up and stoppered the bottle. And, oh dear, is that a hermit crab hiding at the bottom of the bottle? Well, I hope you'll help her find a good home.
Kevin, this reminds me of the phrase *tikkun olam* which is often translated to "repair the world" - although this interpretation is sometimes contested, I like it because I have an appreciation for the word "repair." To repair is to cherish, to value, to believe in redemption. To repair reminds us that we are not the first, that we are not alone, that our acts of creation are continuations of efforts, collaborations with the labor and ideas of others. To repair means that there was a previous state of existence that may now feel far away, but gives us a reason to hope in possibility, something to aim for, an inspiration. I believe deeply that every act of repair to a tractor or guitar or building is awakening a human pattern, reminding us that we, too, may be restored, that our current brokenness need not mean that we are beyond responding to care. Thank you for sharing and inspiring these lovely thoughts.
Kevin, this is a lovely post and I immediately want to darn some socks or something :-) I noticed that the final picture has your surname. Is this your own artwork, or another family member's?
Kevin, this reminds me of the phrase *tikkun olam* which is often translated to "repair the world" - although this interpretation is sometimes contested, I like it because I have an appreciation for the word "repair." To repair is to cherish, to value, to believe in redemption. To repair reminds us that we are not the first, that we are not alone, that our acts of creation are continuations of efforts, collaborations with the labor and ideas of others. To repair means that there was a previous state of existence that may now feel far away, but gives us a reason to hope in possibility, something to aim for, an inspiration. I believe deeply that every act of repair to a tractor or guitar or building is awakening a human pattern, reminding us that we, too, may be restored, that our current brokenness need not mean that we are beyond responding to care. Thank you for sharing and inspiring these lovely thoughts.
Kevin, this is a lovely post and I immediately want to darn some socks or something :-) I noticed that the final picture has your surname. Is this your own artwork, or another family member's?