This is my bathroom cabinet now, used to be my portfolio box I made that held the 8x10 transparencies I would trot around to show art directors. Nobody does that anymore so I re-purposed it. Hate to throw something away that I built.
What it does do besides hold crap is something I try to universally do in my life. And that is pay attention to the moment, to make going through life into one big tea ceremony. You see, the making of the tea is as important as the tasting of the tea. It's the process and paying attention to the process.
Being aware.
To open the cabinet you simultaneously push in with your thumb on the portion to the right of the catch and slide the catch to the left. It's a sliding dovetail of wood sliding against wood. It's still nice and snug of a fit after 15 years. So satisfying.
But don't open the door too quickly for if you do the toothbrush will slide off of the two rare earth magnets and fall to the floor. A thoughtful and meditative swing of the door is perfect.
To access the toothpaste, you pull it straight down, the magnet will leap off the tube of paste at just the right moment and re-attach itself to the strip of metal I screwed up in the upper right hand corner.
It makes a sharp sound as it does. The sound registers in the brain. Bell-like but shorter.
The toothbrush comes out, paste is applied and with your thumb you push the magnet that held the toothpaste off the bar of steel onto the wood to free it. Another sound, a different sound, more of a thud, still sharp but duller.
Put the toothpaste into position, start moving the magnet back toward the steel and it jumps from the fingers.
Snap!
Maybe as you brush you try and memorize the decimal equivalents.
Or maybe not. This is your free time. And valuable time it is, the mind will go to it's happy place for a moment or two.
Place the brush back, and again close the door with attention.
The whole thing just feels so worthy of doing when it's done this way.
Let's go with one more example.
To Have a Drink.
The key I made to open this cabinet is heavy. Heavy and highly polished. Picking it up almost makes your mind stay right there just from the weight. It means something, that weight. A gravity almost.
It gets placed in the hole in such a way as the flat portion faces outward. You can see your face in it, questioning you, seeking reassurance that you do indeed want to open up the cabinet that carries the liquid drugs.
You hold onto the door as a quarter turn of the key to the right releases everything. The door itself is real heavy. Shop made 1" ply, heavy gauge copper sheet, thick shop made veneer on the outside. This lowering of the door is important, slowly the fish and the door go down. One slip and you're fucked. Screws will be ripped out, hinges will rip out, chaos I tell you, sad sad chaos will happen.
Talk about needing a drink if it does.
But you know this so The Process here is Paramount.
I used cable as a way of holding the door in position. The weight of the door and cable create an instrument almost if you pluck it. Deep, basslike. Ok...like OMmmm.....................OMmm..................
OMm..........
Choosing what you drink, well, that's a whole big bigger than I want to talk about now thing.
You close the door and the fish will hit the stopper thingie three times in quick succession.
One big one.....a half a beat later, two smaller ones
CLACK....clack, clack.
Turn the key to the left, remove and place it on the coaster.
Drink
ahhhhhh
like tea but better.
So maybe you take that drink, maybe you sit on your couch while you talk with somebody. And there is nothing more important than to listen right then.
The being here process of being here.
