Trust The Process: Making Fruit Leather
- Maddy Johnson
- 51 minutes ago
- 4 min read
by maddy johnson
Sometimes I forget to trust in the ebb and flow of things–the natural cycles
and rhymes that govern the universe and our day to day lives. You’d think I’d
have internalized that a bit more now… given the work I’m engaged in: there’s a
reason why we harvest apples in September and citrus in February; it’s why we
plant tomatoes in May; it’s the capricious colors dotting the hillsides where I scout
and collect native seeds. The world’s in constant flux, with different things
blooming and dying in unison. But alas. I think this lesson may have just sunken
in for good while making fruit leather (my frontal lobe is also (allegedly) fully
developed as of two weeks ago, so that may be playing a part here too…).
At the end of June, I’m spearheading a summer art camp with the local
arts center focusing. Our partnership serendipitously formed when I reached out
for discounted watercolor classes. The arts center just so happened to be
seeking out produce for their afterschool program–as well as another instructor
for their youth summer art camp. Focusing on plant-based fashion, this camp is
an opportunity to converge several of my interests: art, youth education, waste
reduction, farming, etc. My head started spinning with ideas–I mean, fruit is pretty
cute. And my co-worker Riley and I had already been making dehydrated citrus
jewelry with kids as part of our Kids Farm Connection program.

How hard could it be? I had a million different ideas for locally sourced, plant-based adornments: natural dying projects, dehydrated fruit jewelry, fruit leather accessories, potato
stamping galore. I had so much fun envisioning the different possibilities. That is
something I do love about myself–I am imaginative, I love to dream of what could
be. A lot of the time though, that’s all it amounts to. A vision. Somewhere in
between dreams (my coworker who I was doing the camp with left for another job
and GrizzlyCorps got defunded), I forgot that it was all on me to make my vision
come to life. Lots of people were counting on me to make this happen–me
included. I owed this to myself. So I started grasping at all of my lofty ideas,
wondering how I was going to ground them in reality.
This past month I’ve been incredibly stressed acquiring materials and
ensuring the crafts are actually feasible. As it turns out, fruit leather is harder to
make than it seems. I had figured the berries would come to me. Turns out, we
weren’t gleaning or receiving many berries. Or plants that work for natural dying.
I knew from the beginning that the camp’s materials would be left up to nature. I
was having a hard time accepting that reality, though. I wanted things to get
done, now. I was sick of sitting in the uncertainty of it all. Trust in the universe?
No thanks.

That said, things have been slowly falling into place. As they always do.
A few weeks ago, I was walking around the farm I work at when I noticed a
peculiar tree. It had glossy leaves. Growing in clusters were orange, oblong
fruits. Living in the high desert for the majority of my life, I’d never seen anything
like it before. I learned that it was a loquat tree, native to China. I took it in and
went on with my life. The next day, my coworker Nicolas noted that loquat tree
leaves produced a blush-colored natural dye. Huh. Guess who knows where we
can find a loquat tree. And perhaps the fruit would make good fruit leather, too…
Little by little, mostly everything I was so worried about has fallen into
place. We’re getting dye flowers donated. We received a large donation of
onions. Onion skins also make a greenish colored dye. We’ve also recently
started thinning apples at the farm. The other day I impulsively sliced a baby
apple in half with my clippers. Marveling at the miniature star that nestled the
seeds, I realized I had more jewelry making material right in front of me (much
needed after a kiwi resin casting failure). All it took was a little presence in the
world around me to recognize I had everything I needed all along. And some
luck. And some faith. And trust. All those things.

This isn’t a new revelation. It is a revelation I have over and over again,
and it always brings me great comfort. This remembering has come at the perfect
time–I’m no longer walking a predetermined path, but I’m trusting that I’ll end up
where I am meant to be, enjoying the season of life that I’m in right now. All that’s
to say is, if you spend all your time wishing for strawberries, you may not notice
the marvelous loquat tree right in front of you.

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