ENAMOREMIENDO

KEEPER OF THE CORN

Among a list of many suggested items to bring to an artists’ bookmaking workshop was “found objects.” This is not an unusual request when making one-of-a-kind books but upon arriving we were asked to choose one found object and place it on a table. There on the table in the center of the circle formed by the ring of twelve chairs were feathers, a corkscrew, a piece of electrical wiring with multicolored filaments erupting from the ends, a handmade glass bead, a leaf, a kernel of corn and other objects, some indescribable. We sat there pensively wondering what was to happen next, eager to be unleashed so we could begin the wonderful process of making a book.

Our first instructions were to introduce ourselves through our found object. The first person, a woman, had found a thick piece of multicolored rubber with an “x” scored on its surface washed up on the beach. She related this object to existentialism. Her presentation was absolutely brilliant. We were all very impressed but at the same time terrified to follow such an intellectual discourse.

When my turn came I held up my single kernel of blue corn. I explained, “I bought this in Taos, New Mexico three years ago. I love the southwest.” People exclaimed amazement that I had carried that lonely kernel of corn around for all these years. But, “No,” I explained, “I bought a large bag of blue corn kernels at the local feed store. ”I paused and gazed at the kernel held between my thumb and forefinger. Suddenly I gasped and remarked, “You know, I really am like this corn . . . I am very sentimental and corny.” We all had a great laugh. However, my mind was aghast as it had been planning what to say to trick people into thinking I am an intellect. I dared not say another word for fear my mouth would betray me even more. Without actually planning to, I had been very open and revealed my true self. I felt very vunerable. At the university where I studied art I learned art is never to be sentimental or corny. I couldn't have said anything worse.

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