Have you ever had a pen pal? I don’t mean an internet friend, but someone who takes the time to write you a letter, not expecting an immediate response and sometimes no response at all. They just want to tell you about their life, and they want it to be personal and handmade.
I think in the age of email and texts and social media, we’re all nostalgic for how we once communicated with one another. I know I am. I’ve never had a pen pal, but I’ve always wanted one.
One night on Instagram, I came across a post promoting something called The Tiny Art Exchange. It was serendipitous. I saw it the night before the registration deadline. I didn’t hesitate. I signed up. I knew this was an opportunity I needed to experience. While not a pen pal, it was close enough.
The Tiny Art Exchange is a project by the Creative Guts Podcast creators, where each artist who registers sends a piece of their art, no larger than 5×7, to a stranger randomly assigned to them by the hosts. You also receive a piece of art from a stranger in return. It’s completely random, and you aren’t assigned to the person who sends you art but to another artist all together.
I didn’t expect it’d be so exciting to send art to someone I don’t know, but it was! I sent mine to a woman named Kaitlyn in New York. All I knew about her was her name and that she also likes art. I’d recently made two mini collages with this exchange in mind, so I wrote a card and put both pieces into the envelope. But, then I found myself feeling attached to the art I’d made. The more I thought about the collages, the more I wanted to keep them. Isn’t it funny how attached we become to the things we make?
Though I made two new collages with Kaitlyn in mind, they didn’t feel right. I ended up sending Kaitlyn the two original collages – one of tincture bottles filled with leaves and a micro-poem: “to explore on foot, echoes.” The second collage was made of cloth that looks like a landscape, featuring a bunny and glitter glue to demonstrate where he’d roamed. His echoes, so to speak.
The day I sent my art, I received art by a woman named Leanne who’d sent a handmade card with an origami dress and a collage of lemons titled “zest.” Both pieces are me, speaking to my interests in fashion design and nature. Both are serendipitous. The same day, before coming home to this parcel, I’d written a poem about lemons for my Instagram with the lines: “when life gives you lemons, understand this is a sign to change your life, to write poetry to the dripping sun, your solar plexus.”
Life did, in fact, give me lemons. Serendipity. An opportunity to let go and receive.
I think these kinds of exchanges are what we need more of as a society, especially for us as women. Less division and more art. More moments where we give and receive. More moments where we realize the serendipity of truly connecting to each other.
