When friends ask about how do I construct these epistles I never know exactly how to answer. I collect pots and bits of backgrounds and quotes. I make my way through the day noticing the light, the wildlife, or something in the garden. I then collage it all together, hoping that in the process I see something new. Even if I put a leaf in a bowl each season, it is a different sculptural sense of leaf or a different bowl on a new ground. The assemblage changes the way I see. Perhaps it might change your sight, amplifying what it means to make things.
Every act of making matters. How we make matters. I like to remember, and remark with regularity, that the word "making" occupies seventeen pages in the Oxford English Dictionary,
so there are multiple possibilities for a lifetime of making: make a
cup, a conversation, a building, an institution, make memory, make
peace, make a poem, a song, a drawing, a play; make a metaphor that
changes, enlarges, or inverts the way we understand or see something.
Make something to change your mind -- acts that amplify.