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the disappearing history of the everyday

Something I think a lot about is how we choose what historical information we preserve (or bury). Often the biases are very easy to find. A hobby of mine is revivalist skincare and beauty, and the amount of information we in the west are interested in preserving is quite low, unless specifically extended to the specific cultural lineages which led directly to western practices. We know about Cleopatra’s bathing practices, Queen Elizabeth’s leaded white makeup, that one cold cream recipe from second century Greece.

We preserve all the little bits of pottery and cosmetics containers we find, but do comparatively little to explore what went inside them, and (the interesting bit!) why.

A recent example where I researched my way directly into a brick wall was an attempt to learn more about aker fassi, the Moroccan lip product stored spread across in clay pots and applied by wetting with a finger. It is universally a rich red, and can be made from a variety of materials, often poppy petals and pomegranate bark.

Hand holding a clay surface coated in golden/reddish powder which is visibly brighter red where it has been wetted and swatched on the hand (photo by Troussi)

Aker fassi is centuries old (at least five of them) and was popularized by Berber women. That’s it! That’s all I know. I wasn’t able to find any scholarly research on the topic. None. It’s not in wikipedia. It wasn’t in other resources I searched. There’s probably some books somewhere or recorded notes about it stored in Berber I’ll never find. But as far as my ability to access information about it, it’s just coming from advertising copy (and one journal article indicating poppies likely had cosmetic purposes).

Cosmetics and skincare products are a very exaggerated example, because in no culture is there a “set” way of using them, and so we do point fingers directly at the examples we’re certain about: Elizabeth did do her beauty routine a particular way. Geisha makeup is well-documented. But how did you use your clay pot lip product? Did you use it on your cheeks or as a stain you wipe off, like people do today after buying some from etsy? Did everyone use it? Was it for special occasions? What did it replace? What was it used alongside? This can be incredibly bright in use, was it actually used that way or thinned to create a sheer wash of color? Did people mix it with or apply it over or under something moisturizing made from oils or animal fats? Was this for young women? Older women? Was it something you wore more for yourself, for confidence, or is it meant to be seen? And how have the answers to ALL of these questions changed over the centuries?

So many unknowns. We document this sort of thing incredibly well now for our own products, thanks to advertising, magazines and various video. We have people who specialize in product formulation, makeup artistry, public filings on materials used. If any portion of today’s internet is accessible in a thousand years, people will have no doubts about the “look” of westerners during the 2020s and the evolutions of the major trends, and will also have access to the reality check that those trends are often simply ignored. Some lucky future researcher will go digging and learn about 1990s skinny brows, and that one year we all wore metallic lip gloss, and those little bonbon nail polishes, and the rise and fall of matte liquid lipstick.

Because when serving as our own historians, we actually care a WHOLE LOT about the everyday, and give far better representation to femme-centered topics, and are constantly sharing summaries, lookbooks and “history of makeup: the last 25 years” sorts of materials, same as we’re filling the internet with recipes and fashion pairings and lifestyle content. It’s frustrating when the people who actually DO our research on earlier cultures don’t have those resources… and don’t have the people passionate about uncovering the answers and who can connect them to modern times. I’m SO tired of reading “and we didn’t know what this was… until we spoke to a modern-day weaver! or hairdresser! or reproduction seamstress! or this one woman who does hair taping and knows this would have to be sewn to distribute the weight!” Maybe it’s time to solicit information more widely about ALL the topics we have big unknowns about: tools of unknown purpose, cultural practices. Instead of dropping things in a museum and pretending the information is lost because there isn’t someone around who cares enough to ask questions.

behind the covid wall

I’ve long been collecting and/or appreciating images of art pieces and snippets of poems and songs and such for a while of people left behind by those able to pretend the pandemic now affects no one.

People who lost their ill loved ones, people who lost their caretakers, the people still too sick to participate in social networks who could really have used a lot more help than anyone was ever prepared to give … now betrayed by things called “weekly bar quiz night” and “meetup at the museum” and “potluck at Ben’s” ENTIRELY replacing the once common “grilling outside” and “drinks on the patio” and “watch party on zoom,” as though we have not just passed through some great gate into the world of shared airspaces, but must remove all evidence that we once enjoyed such things regularly.

Everyone seems to want to claim that lockdown made great art to explore… what, yet more pieces framed around extraordinary privilege? Temporary brushes with an existence in which people now live INDEFINITELY but with their accommodations now freshly packed up like they never existed?

Framed as though people losing interest in masks and giving up was the end, but that wasn’t the end! The foundations of even close circles and families cracked when people started to do their normal activities again, but this time with a wall keeping the “vulnerable” people out. It was a SEVERING. Some went on and went back. Some are left behind, BEGGING them to act like human beings and make it safe for others to be in the room with them, to stop cordoning off access to the joys or even just the basic requirements of life, to not reduce human beings to the percentage that they won’t bother to accommodate, to the barrier to maximal ticket sales, to the ranks of “excess deaths” and “the uninsurable” and “dead from complications after a long battle.”

They beg you to care enough to ensure that someone who needs clean air, CLEAN AIR, a fundamental requirement, the most basic of basic needs… can actually access it under your leadership.

The wall people have thrown up to keep out the expendable is a forbidding one. THAT is where the meaningful art comes from. It bleeds out onto pages and into endlessly repetitive patterns (because it’s difficult to concentrate) on reclaimed scrap yarn (because it’s a risky outing to fetch more). Projects of weeks and months taking years. Songs written by people who still can’t push the air to sing them or sit up to play.

Solidarity until it’s inconvenient. Inclusivity as a fad.

I know someone who makes, privately, ransom note cutouts from the packing slips and labels from the endless shipment, demanding a life back with each. A furious little prayer to a hostile god. By her choice, her work will never reach the eyes of the unaffected … for this wall has two sides. The best art of these times, perhaps, we must now jealously horde away from those who make it necessary. Those who cannot be trusted with your safety certainly cannot be trusted with your pain.

the creative power of “fuck it”

I’m one of those people who makes usable things only when my mind is flipped on and tuned to a very specific channel. Often for good reasons, like breathless laughter or an uncharacteristic bout of evil glee, but just as often because something is gnawing on me. It’s never “hmm I think I’ll have a cup of tea and work on my values study.” That would be nice, but it’s just not how I work. That’s just practice. For a finished piece I care about and will go through the effort to try to make perfectly, a switch needs to flip.

The absolute best switch to flip, and I will recommend this to anyone, is when you think about an idea and you’re not sure, and maybe you’re feeling a little muddled, or you are overthinking it, and suddenly you just feel this welling up in your chest and you say “fuck it.”

Two women in the desert ready to smash small TVs with sledgehammers

That’s the cue. You’ve only got a minute or two. Swap out whatever crummy supplies you have been toying with and pull in the good stuff. Get yourself ready to record audio, or flip on the lights, or break out the camera, or grab the palette knife because whatever your next move is, it needs to be archival quality. You’re going to want to save it. It might not be something you can market and sell. It might not be something you can even finish. But it’s time to preserve whatever you’re about to do so that you can hit that state over and over again, getting faster and freer with your inspiration and smoothing your own way.

This is why you learn your craft, build your skill, study your technique. This is why you stock your materials. This is why when you realize you really like the texture or look of something or a turn of phrase you came up with some day, you should make sure it’s accessible again, that you understand it, that you’re ready to shape it. Because instead of an eventual product, you’re about to make something wild and wonderful, and the benefit of professional experience is how quickly and clearly you’re going to translate that passing momentary desire to make EXACTLY what you’re imagining into an actual finished piece. When you know how to plot out a novel of a particular length and can just start writing into a familiar structure, and when you know exactly the bottle of glimmering blue ink you want to feature, and when you have a comfortable place to work and can clear your schedule and just CREATE something, you’re ready for this moment.

Because the secret, unspoken whole phrase is actually “fuck it, today I’m going to make what *I* want.” There’s no more powerful form of inspiration than the chance to just will something into existence one day which would otherwise never be.

when did blogs stop being fun?

I last used wordpress many moons ago, and remember it as a violently different creative experience, with a haphazard interface and a wide variety of themes that felt as unique and expressive as the people who used them.

Somehow in the intervening years, the “market” seems to have shifted into something I barely recognize. Where there once were brightly-colored, highly customizable themes meant for music fans, teenagers, parents, book lovers and people with all sorts of senses of personal style, there are now pages and pages of commerce-optimized themes and integrations… it’s clear a battle was fought (and lost) for the soul of the weblog as primarily a fun way for humans just to write and play.

Tiny fabric gnome figurine with a red knitted hat in the snow, skiing. Image by Susanne Jutzeler.

Honestly it was really off-putting. It used to be fun to scroll through the assorted blog themes and plugin lists for different software. They were filled with goodies… shoutboxes, games to play, fun ways to find and collect sites from friends or on topics you enjoy, custom radio station plugins, quizlets, anything you wanted, tied up nicely in a bow.

Now even the interface feels like I’m meant to be plugging my most recent item for sale, well, you can’t have it! I’m not selling! 😛 make your own! If I try to sell you something I make, it’s going to be from the most virulently glittery, least streamlined site I can concoct. It’ll be like tripping over a pile of clothes thrown in the corner. It’ll be neon lights and plastic lawn flamingos and a hideous background that kinda works but makes you pull a face every time you see it because you’ve gotten so used to seeing “light theme” and “dark theme” that you completely forgot your monitor can do pumpkin orange and lime green and mouse cursor trails that drip stars all over the page. That is my pledge to you: I won’t try to sell you anything I make without making you regret it.

… wait crap that’s not how I meant to word that. Also this is meant to be a personal blog! Stop getting off-topic!

(edit: I’ve introduced the stars. You’re welcome!)