Let’s Play: Exploring the Connexion between toys and art, embracing how play can keep our minds vibrant

One of the challenging aspects of writing for both a personal blog and my small independent press is knowing when to address a topic as a publisher and when it would be better served to come from, well, me.

Today is definitely one of those times. I don’t have it in me to write two separate pieces. I’m not even sure I have it in me to do one that conveys the sense of enthusiasm and the nature of the art I saw last night at the opening reception for “Let’s Play” at Connexions, the art exhibit curated by Maryann Riker, who has participated in Parisian Phoenix Publishing’s anthology Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money and provided custom art work for the covers of Twists: Gathered Ephemera and The Phulasso Devotional: Engineering the Warrior Priest for Dark Times.

I asked Maryann what the average viewer would see in the works. This is what she told me:

It’s a fun, whimsical and crazy, but playful, assortment of work. As we settle into the idea of a world with COVID, I hope this exhibit gives the viewer the feeling that play is important. The brain retains plasticity as we age by providing learning and creative opportunities. It gives us new perspectives and idea. Play is vital to children and adults alike.

Maryann Riker, curator of Let’s Play at Connexions, on display now through June 25

Within the exhibit, Maryann selected several photographs by Joan Zachary featuring the residents of Plastiqueville. Joan has shot photographs for Parisian Phoenix that I can’t even list comprehensively, from author headshots to cover shoots.

Joan described the pieces in the exhibit as “while they’re quite different from each other, all depict Plastiqueville as the fun-loving, joyous world I’ve tried to create. All my creative projects attempt to build an imaginary world, filled with detail and lifelike characters (even though the tallest of them are barely seven inches in height, and most of the others are much, much smaller). I know I’ve succeeded if the viewer wants to crawl inside and live there.”

Joan herself is not a tall person, so I wonder if the choice to work with recycled toys in a small, plastic world has more to say than she realizes. One of these days we might find Joan inhabiting her plastic universe with Mr. Tiger Pants and his friends.

“Plastiqueville [is] an imaginary world populated by my random collection of little plastic people. You will see their competitive nature as they compete at Scrabble. You’ll experience their adventurous spirit as they go rafting through waters made from foil paper. And you’ll be invited into their private moments as they share their secrets. Plastiqueville is a world like no other, although it will probably look very familiar,” Joan teased.

The gallery has a second exhibit on display right now, the regional summer group show. The two presentations work well together– the group show offering scenes of spring and local views, an exterior examination of life; while Let’s Play encourages an interior dialogue of what toys mean, beyond their existence as the possessions of children. Do their vibes and their influence stay within us as adults?

The gallery itself is a fun place to visit, the hand of artists evidently at play with the eclectic blend of furniture, the items of display from jewelry to pottery, a nook for chess here, a very European feeling courtyard there. Even the music by DJ Kaos was perfect.

And anyone in the area knows the best place to get the best food is Forks Mediterranean Deli and Connexions certainly did it right. I once spent a year attending ever Hillel function at Lafayette College until they revealed the secret to their falafal– it came from Forks Mediterranean Deli.

As soon as The Teenager and I walked into the room with the refreshments we had the same thought. Surrounded by the familiar smell that could have made us drool like a dog, we both recognized it.

The ordinary adventures

So, if you’re a friend of mine or a regular here, you know that I have asked my employer, Stitch Fix, for a short-term disability/ FMLA leave to deal with my ruptured tendon (mallet or baseball finger) and its impact on my right hip.

This means I’ve made a commitment to work with my family doctor, my chiropractor (Nicole Jensen at Back in Line Chiropractic and Wellness Center) and Andrew, my personal trainer at Apex Training.

And to keep my hands warm and not use my finger.

Yesterday, I saw Nicole and we discussed the state of my body and the trade-off I seem to be making— working in the Bizzy Hizzy warehouse keeps me active but causes pain, but not being in a physical job makes me stiff and makes it difficult to move, even when I take the same amount of steps I do at work.

Andrew and I are working on strength, mobility, stability and range of motion.

I had lunch with my mother yesterday, who upon her return home had her dog pass away.

In the afternoon, I spoke with my disability claims examiner and gathered paperwork for her. My eligibility confirmation came through this morning, and I think the actual leave is just a matter of paperwork now.

But paperwork sure is sucking the life out of me right now.

So this morning when the weather looked sunny and conducive to a perfect spring day, Nan and I decided to surprise the teenager and retrieve her hearing aids from the ear doctor. Then, we could grab some cold beverages and visit Bethlehem’s Monocacy Park.

The park is quiet, easy to navigate and has a creek. The birds, geese and fishermen would offer entertainment for Nan, as between the water and the animals there would be nature to hear as well as see.

It was a fantastic way to bring some stress-free moments into running errands.

After a modified upper body workout with Andrew, Joan stopped by and brought me an early birthday gift from the residents of Plastiqueville.

A hat!!!!

The hat was not for me but for my mallet finger.

And for dinner, the teenager made Hungryroot meatballs and cauliflower linguine. We used ShopRite tomato and basil pasta sauce. It turned out so lovely I had to make a slice of butter bread to sop up the sauce.

Small pleasures.

Perhaps it’s time for a recap

Perhaps the dog says it best…

It’s been a week since my dad died. And I’m exhausted. We’re all exhausted. I haven’t taken my allergy medicine in a week (finally did tonight) and my head feels congested. I hope I’m not sick.

In news not related to grief, I returned to work yesterday. In retrospect, this was both good and bad. I needed rest after all of this craziness and I didn’t get it.

The checks for the incorporation paperwork and fictitious name registration for Parisian Phoenix Publishing Company have been cashed.

Darrell Parry’s poetry manuscript, Twists: Gathered Ephemera, opened to presales yesterday. And Gayle has been hard at work with cover designs for Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money. And Joan and the residents of Plastiqueville have been hard at work with the illustrations for Trapped.

Khloe and Louise

Currently I am in bed, under the heat blanket with multiple cats on my lap.

My week has included some beautiful text messages, like one from the administrative assistant at ProJeCt, and heartfelt cards and so many flowers. Phone calls. And sympathy food! Offers of halupkis and coffee cake and delivery of alcoholic egg nog and rum cake.

I have gained back the weight I lost.

My work performance today was almost normal, but my emotional state was… what’s the word? Unstable?

I called my traveling companion and told him all my tales from the funeral— and he told me it sounded beautiful and that he thinks he would have liked my dad and wishes he could have met him.

And a couple times today I folded this sweater, the same style and color I was folding when I got the call.

My days are full of loss and laughter.

I built a little shrine. A place for my dad to have coffee. Because I anticipate that sometime soon I will feel his presence here.

My mother gave me the photo at the funeral. It was from 1975. The year I was born. Probably around the time they got married.