blooming still

No deep thoughts this evening, friends; I just wanted to share the latest developments in foliage on our valentine tree. I found inspiration for the newest addition here. Gabriel and I had an excellent morning making these wax paper hearts, and we were utterly delighted with the results.

The last time I grated crayons to melt between sheets of wax paper was probably in our Providence kitchen. I have hazy recollections of looking up at my mother standing at the ironing board, sealing autumn leaves in with the slivers of crayon. A more vivid memory is the breathless awe I felt gazing at the leaves hanging in our windows when we were finished, as brilliant and luminous as stained glass. It was probably 1982.

I doubt crayons-and-waxed paper crafting technology has changed much since then. Gabriel and I used a box grater and all the broken crayon bits we could find. (It remains to be seen whether or not the colored wax can be entirely cleaned out of the little holes, so if you are going to try this, I recommend using a spare grater if you have one.) Was I afraid Gabriel would grate his knuckles off? Yes, I was. But he didn't. The ironing part, however, presented a greater challenge.

After we'd collected lots of little bits of color on a sheet of waxed paper, we placed a second sheet on top, and a towel on top of that. (We began with a towel beneath the first sheet of waxed paper as well). Gabriel really, really, really wanted to wield the hot iron. I contemplated abandoning ship, until I remembered our toy wooden iron. Happiness was restored. In the end we both had an iron, and we both passed them methodically over the top towel. Gabriel made an incredibly loud construction vehicle sort of noise while he ironed, which appeared to be rather soothing for him.

When we finally lifted the towel, beautiful swirling colors greeted us. I cut the sheet in half, so we could both cut shapes out of our own pieces. Here are some of Gabriel's.

He called the hearts I cut "outer space hearts" because the yellow sprinklings of color look like stars. We found that the hole punch compromised the wax seal, so instead used a skewer to poke holes for hanging. It was an unusually harmonious, companionable morning, and I still can't believe how much we both enjoyed the process and the product, together. For a fleeting and delicious moment, I felt myself to be exactly where I was supposed to be, and with exactly the right person, too.