I have always loved art in its many mediums – particularly drawing (comics) and writing (comics). I've dabbled in music, I tried my hand at printmaking, I even once made a nifty fish-shaped knick-knacks dish (it was a cartoony fish, giving the knick-knack owner a thumbs up, of course). I've tried sculpture and installation but I can't say that I was, hmm, successful.
My mother is always a whiz at most things crafty. Where I would fix a broken zip on an overall dress with several button badges, she would sew in a new zip. Where I would blutak the crack in the broken vase, she would plant a succulent in it. Where I would throw away that pair of old jeans with the awkward hole in the crotch, she would craft them (with the help of paint and glitter) into nifty bags and quilts. Where I would knit a scarf that gained so many new stitches that it had doubled in width by the time I'd finished, she would knit me a rad knitted vest (with a design to make it look like I'm wearing a tie).
And where I couldn't see that Rob had any interest in creating art, she would see Rob's many abilities to create art out of the most ordinary of objects. Mum would see what she calls Rob's 'Artisms' (like art and autism smooshed together) all over the place. And once Mum pointed them out to me I couldn't not see them. Here are a few of the highlights from over the years.
Now that Rob lives in full-time care, I don't get to see these Artisms anymore, as you need to spend lots of time around Rob to really get to know him and to experience his creations.
That's one of the things I miss most about having regular doses of Rob in my life: the moments when you just stumble across a pile of things, arranged just so, that you know Rob has carefully thought about and placed.
That's it for this post. Catch you next week when I write about all those other ideas I have floating around in my head and talk about my addiction to buying sketchbooks.