Bacon and domesticity.

We crafted all afternoon, my little sisters and I. We drew, we colored, we made collages. I like taking songs or poems or phrases and turning them into something visual - something colorful. I cut triangles out of a hundred different colors of paper in magazines and newspapers and pasted them together to make an exotic bird sporting a condescending expression. I learned today that I enjoy making pointless art. I like making art that exists for no reason but to be itself. I read today that animals howl to declare their existence. That's what my art does, I think.

All afternoon I made art that howls. Paper birds declaring their existence.

We only took one break, to make BLTs. Wheat toast, sliced tomatoes, fresh lettuce, and bacon. I like BLTs because they're bacon disguised as sandwiches. If we just sat around making art and eating bacon, my mom would probably protest. But if we're sitting around making art and eating BLTs, my mom can say "Oh, I'm glad you got some lunch. Isn't that lettuce great?"

I sat there planning out my paper bird and eating my incognito sandwich and thought: "Huh, there is so much grace in this afternoon." And there was. One of my favorite Hillsdale professors, Dr. Schlueter, said in a stand-alone lecture that domesticity is grace manifested in daily living. Chores. Slow afternoons. Paper art. And bacon sandwiches.

Now I think that I will go make myself another mug of hot chocolate with nutmeg and cinnamon. And maybe make a paper elephant.