At my first workshop we learned about mud plastering. This building practice, which is a long-standing Japanese tradition, is sustainable, economical, and more insulating than regular plaster. 

During this workshop, I was given a short brief then sent off with a ladder and some mud to plaster a wall of my own.

The beauty of mud plastering is that there is no way to make it perfect. It's mud. However, while I could spend time smoothing it over as much as possible, I ended up enjoying the natural, messy texture even more. 

In addition, no one supervised me or told me I was doing poorly. Rather, occasionally I was given tips, but mostly people let me just have fun. They knew there was no messing up, and so I had the freedom to learn how to do it for myself. 

It didn't turn out perfectly, but I started realizing little in Bison was perfect: it was fun, a learning experience, and good enough. 

For the first time ever, I was comfortable with "good enough"

I was asked to make an art piece in the concrete wall, told that I could press my designs into the concrete. However, after making my design, I learned the patterns could not be pressed in, as the concrete was poured directly into walls. Instead of giving up, G, the concrete worker, handed me 2 planks and a stapler gun and told me to staple my design onto the board. While I had no experience with concrete I was thrown into the deep end, being taught in about half an hour before I was trusted to make the concrete on my own. 

It was stressful at first, but I soon learned it didn't matter if I messed up: you can always add more powder or rocks or water, and there's no real way to mess it up. Besides, the concrete mixer was slightly broken, so we had to mix it ourselves. We only had one trowel, which was being used by the concrete worker, so I scooped the concrete with a spare shovel. 

The design didn't turn out great, though that was to be expected. A large part of this process was simply working with what we have and not worrying about making things perfectly. 

During one afternoon, I had a break so I decided to go watch the artists work. Rather than just letting me watch, they talked to me as they worked, and Cecil even asked me to help her with a few of her rubbings. I was a little confused, but quickly learned she was letting herself enjoy the process and get things done rather than having a perfect final project. She then brought me in on the rest of the project, requesting my opinion with laying out the design and handing me a hole puncher to help her finish up her exhibition. 

This also taught me that even professional artists have difficulty with decisions and have doubts. Simply put, everyone needs help. And with the limited time she had to put on her project, she had no way of making it perfect. By making perfection an impossibility, it allowed her to focus more on the process of making the art and the emotions she could convey through. Her final work was a reading area with places for people to post things on the walls, inspired by ads being posted one another in major cities, telling a story as you dig deeper into the past. 

Through this, she managed to make a cozy, comforting space that wasn't perfect, but brought joy to people who saw it.

Picture: Cécile Ngọc Sương Perdu