It’s Mother’s Day again, at least in Australia, and, as per usual, I have made a box for you, Elizabeth, the mother of my children. I know it’s a bit of a strange pasttime, and I hope it never replaces that half-painted paddle pop trees and macaroni jewellery that Lucas and Sophia have made are going to make for you. Instead, I hope you see it as a complement to those. You see, I make boxes for you each year partly because I like to do it; I readily admit that I’m terrible at the woodwork side of things and the rather amateur results never fail to disappoint me, but there’s nevertheless a pleasure in doing something with your hands, and building something that’s physical and present and that you can point at and say, I did that.
Of course, a box is just a box, but it is also a lot more than that, too, and there’s more than one reason for me to make the boxes. There’s an echo of our relationship in every one of those boxes that I’ve built for you. Just like our relationship, none of these boxes are perfect. To be honest, they can’t even claim to the pretense of perfection. There are mismatched corners, and drppped paint, and bad measurements, and crooked screws and a whole host of other problems with every single one of the boxes. Like every relationship, you’ve got to try new things – hence the 3D printed box a few years ago, and this year, something with finger joints and a lid. On the whole, they’re probably not worth sharing on social media – but there’s an honesty to them that I think is like our relationship. And I like to think that you can chart our history over the course of these boxes, from year to year, as they gradually take on a shape and format of their own, growing slightly more sophisticated and better each year. I imagine there will be good boxes and bad boxes, but I know you’ll understand that I’ve worked on these boxes in much the same way we’ve worked on this relationship, building something about which we can be proud.
Of course, the real value in any kind of box lies in what you put inside it. Alongside the gifts that the children have made for you, which I know you will treasure, I hope you think of the boxes as a physical representation fo the love and care that we have for each other. These boxes are family: they are the shelters and structures we build to protect those things that are most precious to us.
Happy Mother’s Day.
Keith.
I missed seeing your portfolio during the Learning Design Network meeting. And I really enjoyed looking at your blog, especially the game reviews and random musings. I hope you write more random musings. I really related to this one because I love art and gifting. I liked how giving a box is kinda an analogy for thinking outside of the box and growing a relationship over time.
thanks Mel! It’s very much a ‘hobby’ project (this website) as much as it’s a professional portfolio!