Yet, in the depths of the basement, there are things I saved. One of the items was an old electric copper chandelier. On a whim, I brought it upstairs and set it on a kitchen chair. Over the next couple of weeks, I glared at it in passing, wondering why I kept it. In time, I softened and reacquainted myself with the dainty copper flowers and the beautiful patina. I considered its future each time I saw it. One of my favorite sculptors, Alberto Giacometti, was rumored to have figurative sculptures all over his studio; when he walked through, he would tweak the clay here and there instinctively.
One day, impulsively, I removed the wiring (we won’t think about asbestos) and stared at the gaping holes that screamed to be filled. I had no answers and walked away. Later, I went to an art show at Water Street Studios. I talked to a woman that did beading. That was the spark.
The next day, I squinted at the naked screaming chandelier and decided to see what I could do. My kitchen became a studio. I made repeated trips to the hardware store and Olde Timer’s Antiques. There were pearls, beads, bits of brass wire and tools everywhere. There was epoxy, metal cleaner and a pile of rags. The stovetop was my work table because the light was good. I removed parts, turned some upside-down, took jewelry apart and epoxied it together; I sewed pearls into place with thin brass wire. It was the best kind of manic frenzy. Hours flew by.
I have been reading Taoist texts and the concept of Wu Wei stands out. Wu Wei is inaction. The theory that right action should be effortless. I felt part of a process that I wasn’t in control of and everything simply fell together.
I looked around the kitchen at the chaos and laughed, grateful that I wasn’t accountable to anyone for the mess.
Amid the clutter, a large clasp sparkled. It was a round jeweled disc that originally held the pearls together. I looked at the candelabra that had evolved so perfectly. There was a useless hole at the base, formerly for electrical cords. I looked at it and the clasp. I picked up the clasp and rubbed it between my fingers thoughtfully. I reached over and slid it into the hole. It fit perfectly. No force, no glue; it still isn’t glued. It was as if it was supposed to be there.
Wu Wei.