THIS IS US.
. . .
We spend a large part of our lives
doing things we think we are supposed to do.
We go to college, have professional careers,
get married, buy houses, and have kids.
It isn’t wrong to do those things,
but it is wrong to be held hostage by the idea
that we must do those things.
When we do something out of obligation,
we deprive ourselves of choice.
We do because we must, not because we want.
Choice is one of our most basic human rights.
It asserts our willingness to live over the universe’s letting.
The ability to choose confirms our freedom
– the freedom to govern one’s self.
Making ice cream sandwiches is my way
of asserting a “willingness to live”.
The ability to create something with my own hands,
something that I can pick up, taste, share, enjoy
- and then do all over again.
This creation-consumption formula is really only successful
when we create by choice,
when we couple our willingness to live
with our ability to live.
Ice cream sandwiches will not save the world.
They won’t cure disease, reduce poverty,
or mitigate natural disasters.
They merely represent a way of choosing in life.
This is an endeavor to excite and encourage willingness.
It is only a ripple, but how much more beautiful is a sea
with a thousand small ripples than one giant wave.
. . .
Sarah and I have been a little confused by something recently.
With the same methods & ingredients,
our hand-kneaded Gram cracker dough ends up different
whether it’s she or I who made it.
Without fail, mine comes out like a sort of stone
not pretty, but stolid.
Her's is like some kind of silk or velvet;
finespun, but temperamental.
Both bake into sameness, so we’re not concerned,
yet it’s brought us back to a question.
One that architecture today doesn’t seem to ask.
Why are our hands important?
A better question might be why are our creations important?
The answer to either could be to tell a story
of where we’re from and what we’ve done.
Our hands translate our intentions,
build what we care about,
and explain who we are.
We need to reignite the tradition of making and sharing directly.
This allows us, not only to learn about those around us,
but in turn help make us who we are
and place ourselves in a larger context.
Gramwich is a simple way of doing that
A way of using our hands to share what Sarah and I care about:
A life better lived by doing and
the act of choosing how to live it.
And don’t listen to Sarah, ice cream sandwiches will save the world.