Friday, April 28, 2006
today I wrote this imaginary letter to myself, for my Phoenicia Times gossip column:
My wife is in charge of folding laundry in our house. Every two or three days, she fetches a pile of clean clothes and drops it on the floor of our bedroom. There it sits for a time -- from 40 minutes to six hours --until she folds it.
One day, in a stray moment, I went over to a pile and rearranged some of the clothing. I placed three brown socks on top, and pushed in the bottom of an undershirt. Then I stepped back. The pile looked better! I had invented "laundry sculpture."
Now, every time there's a new heap of clothes, I work on it. Often I make the pile taller. I try to harmonize the colors. Gradually, I have learned the importance of red in laundry. When I really like a sculpture, I take a photograph. I'm saving these photos to show in a local gallery.