I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I don’t make them the same way I don’t eat ice cream for breakfast. It’s not because I think it’s a bad idea. I just forget that you can.

This year, I’m making agreements.

Small horse in a field between Brighton and Ditchling — Friend I made on the walk.

In October of 2020 I walked from Brighton to Ditchling, a village some 12 kilometres north as a drunken crow might fly. I was living in Brighton at the time because a few terrible choices had left me without a permanent residence during a global pandemic.

Ditchling is home to the appropriately named Ditchling Museum of Art + Craft, a lovely, perfectly-sized institution dedicated to the town’s rich history of both. The first time I visited—also after walking from Brighton—I didn’t know the museum was there. Stumbling on it by surprise was like reaching into a jacket pocket expecting to find a used Kleenex and pulling out a $20 bill.

This time I knew the Ditchling Museum of Art + Craft would be waiting for me, with an exhibition of John Newling. Newling is a Nottingham-based artist who explores “the social and economic systems of society”. Much of his practice is built on walking and talking to people, two things I, Thom “not an artist” Wong, do on a regular basis.

We are not alone. We live in a world with others. From our earliest beginnings we have negotiated with others. It has been a necessary tool for our survival. These negotiations have brought with them agreements between people. Agreements are the governing principles of each transaction we make.

Newling’s agreements (“Give me your garden trimmings and I’ll turn them into art”) often involve unexpected methods (“I’m a gild these in gold ya feel me?”).1 I love Newling because he looks like a really good maths teacher and produces art no five year-old on their best day could hope to smear on a wall. Mostly he observes and listens and records and creates.

Resolutions tend to sound like things you’ve chosen under duress. They lack joy. They’re buying the sword that does two extra damage over the hat which makes you look like a badass steampunk tree surgeon.2 I’ve never heard someone’s resolutions and thought, those sound like a really nice way to approach the next 365 days.

And so, agreements. I’m agreeing to do these things in 2022, and I’m telling all of you as part of that agreement. You’re involved now, suckers! Feel free to ask me how these are going in June.

My three agreements for 2022

1) I will learn how to repair something and then provide those repairs as a free service.

This is an idea I had in 2020 and then COVID etc. That idea turned into bookbinding, which I started learning in 2021 before more COVID etc. What better way to start 2022 (etc etc) than by going back to the original idea?3

I wanted to fix stuff like cameras and typewriters and other things it would take me so long to learn how to fix people would be better off wrapping their broken items in a shroud and dousing them with holy water.

And then it hit me (through Instagram)—clothes! I love clothes. And there’s all sorts of (Japanese) ways you can go about fixing clothes. To quote the Spyplane, there are ‘cool visible menders who will REJUVENATE old garments so that “no jawn ever has to die”’. That could be me! That WILL be me. It is agreed.

2) I will give away as many things as I buy.

Before I take on something new, I must give away something old. This one has already hit a snag, because I tried to give away some camera equipment and people insisted on paying me for it. Turns out it’s hard to give things to people outside of the accepted parameters for giving.4

Is this is a way to make me feel better about buying things? I mean, it’ll probably do that. I read once that what you spend money on is your vote for the kind of world you want. That sounds like something someone who buys a lot of “Made in Japan” things would say, so obviously I took notice.

I don’t think we can buy our way out of any of the world’s current problems. Sorry sustainable fashion. I don’t think you can buy your way out of a bad mood, but you can delay it for a good stretch of time. So implicit in this agreement is the understanding I will also buy fewer things.

But “buy fewer things” is the kind of killjoy resolution I’m trying to avoid. And here we are! If you were foolish enough to give me your mailing address at some point for some reason, you may be the beneficiary of this agreement you didn’t even know you were making with me this year. It is agreed.

3) Perfect a signature dish.

I like to cook and there are things I cook regularly. They might, if you squint and maybe jump a little, look like a signature dish, but really they’re just things I make a lot. I want a dish that is basically the culinary equivalent of me.

That’s a lot to ask of food which already gives and gives and wants so little in return. I should start by perfecting any dish first. What does it mean to perfect a dish? Seems a little food bro-y. But “I’m going to get good at cooking” is pretty lacking as a year-long ambition.

What we need then is a way to measure how good I am at making something, and the best way to determine that is ~~social media likes~~ inviting people over to eat the food. Mentioning it’s good isn’t enough (I don’t tend to know nevermind socialise with jerks.) But…did they ask for the recipe? Did they say they want it again? Mission accomplished/it is agreed.

1

Is what I assume Newling said to them.

2

It’s possible I’ve been playing too many video games.

3

I still want to learn bookbinding. It’s so chill and you can buy Japanese tools for it.

4

I sent a camera to a friend’s son because it seemed like a cool thing to do, but also because I wanted him to grow up in a world where he thinks things like that happen. This occupies a lot of my mind time.

Supergranular

47. New year, new hey that's not a real horse