The best time, I find for thanks, is all the time.
Most especially best, is when I am wanting to tantrum and sulk, or spin out in fear. This happens with some regularity. The thank yous remind me of the fact that because I am free to write this, live safely, drive my own car, eat wonderful fresh foods, move around in a human body, even if creaky or painful or like a strange hotbed of unfamiliar sensation or activity I didn't orchestrate - It is then that the worry stuff is extra worry, that I might not have a fifth layer of icing on my cupcake, kind of worry. In fact, I don't even need the cupcake (whatever it is). I can myself sometimes even be an expression of thanks, and live off the fantastic wealth of that feeling, anytime.
Mind you, not to be good. Or to be liked. But to feel and savor and join the life of the moment, gritty and singularly bizarre or unfaimliar or deceptively familiar looking.
Someone very deserving of my thanks in the month of May and eternally is Rachel Marandett, a young artist doing an internship in the last year of highschool, without whom I might have been buried under books instead of writing to you here. Thank you Rachel.
My books arrived!!
I have had lots to do. I sent out lots of rewards and books and thank yous, and the thank yous keep being the appropriate response for everything, and they have their own momentum, those thank yous.
I made this, by way of thanks.
I sent these packages, with that image included inside each, by way of fulfilling my promise to the people who helped me make this book. By way of thanks.
In the book some of the pages are also about thanks. For example.
Hannah Burr is a contemporary artist and author. Originally from Boston, she lives in Ann Arbor MI.