Februar 3, Lahore
Time stopped—time sped—time is out of the picture—time evolved...
The making is like the midwife assisting the birth to come to fruition—we accept what comes—the womb is pregnant even though it may seem empty and bloated—it needs some help. I have a lot of empty zines in the library with unfinished title pages and half drawn drawings… Nothing is rejected… Every spot on the page is a world… Every random verse and universe…
The nicest thing I can offer is my full attention—but how did I turn from the “participating facilitator” to the “teacher”? It happened so quick…
The kids copy from one another. I have a lot of “twin zines”. And that's ok. “Look for ideas—copy if you must—and find a way to make it your own—help one another—share…”
Physical comfort is a luxury here… under-rated, over-stated, unaccomplished. I move the kids to a room with more light and where the tables are smooth. Safety is the feeling that we are all in it together—that we do not make fun of each other—that we respect and honour everything we do—and we celebrate what arrives.
Respect must be earned—mutual respect is the ideal—power is always lurking around the corner.
“What's the point if its not fun?”
“Take your time—put in some more colour—make another picture—use this clay—if you don’t want to do anything its fine but you must allow the others to do what they want—go help a friend—maybe you need to leave the
classroom for a bit…”
How do I keep my energy and creativeness as fresh as it was on the first workshop I did? “How is every zine so similar, so simple, so attractive, so beautifully different?”
We always listen to the other when they speak
We do not make fun of anybody even if it is funny
We don’t criticise because were not perfect either—or then we all are
We don’t think kids are simple stupid—kids are complicated smart!
“Your so funny and creative. I wonder if your story can be changed a bit to reflect that…”—“what if the snake didn’t really want to hurt people if they just left him alone… “