Tuesday, 13 December 2016
I've got this thing about milk bottles. They are very satisfying to cut up. Pliable yet really strong. Easy to slice, yet with enough 'give' to make you feel like you're working the material. They're also readily available, easy to come by, and mostly - when empty at least - unloved and unwanted. Perfect for making stuff with.
Recycling. I like to make things out of things which were once other things. Recycling is better than throwing away - as in filling up a landfill site. But making new stuff out of things which would otherwise end up in the recycling bin is even better.
I've been lucky enough to travel to various places, and visit people in homes made from things which have been other things. Oil cans, plastic sheeting, corrugated iron, plastic jerrycans. Lucky enough to see how much I have, what privilege I have been born into. But also lucky enough to see the resourcefulness of human beings, the creativity in the face of great poverty, the pride families take and the generosity shown in the midst of using other people's junk to call home.
So, I enjoyed making little houses out of milk bottles. Keeping them from the bin for a bit longer. Remembering Susanna in Mexico City, and millions of others like her, with her immaculate children, and her two rooms made of stuff found on the scrapheap. A place she proudly called home.