they are. More
coffee filters. In the
raw, straight from the pile
and into the bucket.
if the original
cup of coffee or frothy
cappuccino was as compelling
to look at and as sumptuous to smell as
these filters getting their
these strange pieces of
paper. When we have coffee at our
house, which is rare, we use a French Press. So
for me, these are an entirely new material which have, until
recently, just been part of my decomposing compost.
Now, though, with my sister's inspiration,
they have become yet another
invitation to explore
take them out
of the 5-gallon compost
collection bucket and move them
into the rinsing tub in our sink, these dirty
filters become precious materials
filled with creative
are soft between my
fingers when I pull them out
of the tub and hang them up to dry.
Once on the rack, all I notice
is the play of light on
want to do
is move in closer to
explore these materials about
which I know so little. Once again, my
compost invites me to consider more than meets
the eye. While I have an idea of what my sister, Sarah C.
Swett, might create out of these filters, their
back story, like so many back
stories, remains a
is unfolding as I write,
Sarah's imagination leading her
and my investigations taking me where
they go. But here we are, unfiltered, making it
up along the way. It does seem, however, that ours is
a circular narrative, filled with the ebbs
and flows of our lives and
Stay tuned for more...
Evelyn R. Swett
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