Welcome back, you crumbtastic wayfinders! Last week, we followed breadcrumbs through memory and metaphor. We tested the theory that we are what we eat by studying what our eating habits leave behind. Did you clean out your toaster and transform its contents into an abstract landscape? Did you write a ballad for burnt toast or leave a tiny trail toward some creative surprise? Even if all you did was notice the crumbs gathering on your shirtfront, I hope you found a few useful clues in what lifestyle leaves behind.
This week, we continue tracking the evidence of where we have been, but we’re moving from the kitchen counter to the front door. Our creative nudge this week is the doormat.
A doormat is a staple of modern residence, a point of orientation and entrance. I just can’t climb into my neighbor’s window, even if I’m carrying fresh baked muffins. There are customs to observe. I knock, ring a bell, or wave at the camera. I wait outside until invited in and, without prompting, I wipe my feet on the doormat.
The doormat helps encourage this civilized behavior. Some homes go one better: wipe your shoes, then remove them entirely before wandering around inside. The doormat is both greeter and bouncer. It says welcome, but also says, “You’re not bringing that drama in here.”
And this is a good time of year to appreciate them. Summer has officially begun in Riverside, which means I hope you’ll be crossing your thresholds often enough to enjoy our community centers, museums, unparalleled parks, and spaces where shade is a civic treasure. A solid, well-placed doormat can make sure at least some of those outdoor adventures stay outdoors.
Doormats have also become tiny front-porch billboards. Some are sincere. Some are sarcastic. Some warn visitors about dogs, children, politics, or the level of enthusiasm they should expect from the people inside. My own doormat is as worn out and faded as the cultural catchphrase it references.
So step outside, step back in, and engage your imagination for several minutes with one or more of these welcome distractions:
- Matagonia: Study what your doormat has collected since the last shake out. Dust, leaves, sand, pet hair? Treat it like evidence, “just the facts ma’am.” Write a short field report about where everyone has been. What does the mat know about your household that no one else has noticed?
- Thrashold: Use your sense of balance and body position. Step onto the mat. Step off. Turn around. Wipe one foot, then the other. Add a pause, a knock, a bow, or a dramatic glance over your shoulder. Turn the act of entering or leaving into a tiny performance. What changes in your body when you prepare to go out compared to coming back?
- Messenger Bag: Read your doormat’s message, even if it only says “the housekeeper quit” in dusty letters. Improve it. Invent five new doormat messages for five different moods: cheerful, exhausted, mysterious, suspicious, and wildly overconfident. Design one as a sketch, poem, or warning label. Mine reads, “Tentatively Welcomed.”
- TouchGo: Carefully touch the mat in sun and shade. Notice the temperature, texture, stiffness, or scratchiness. Does it hold heat like a sidewalk? Does it smell like rubber, rain, or a dog’s paws? Create a color palette, short weather report, or abstract drawing based entirely on what the mat feels like.
- Matoverse: Look closely at the fibers, grooves, patterns, stains, and worn-down places. Is there a miniature landscape in there? A river delta of dirt? A canyon of shoe scrapes? A nation of dryer lint? Draw or photograph your doormat as if it were an aerial map of a place worth exploring. Name the landmarks. Give directions. Annex your neighbor’s porch.
We make a lot of doors. We paint them dramatically, close them with feelings, open them when opportunity rings. This week, when you arrive at the next door in your life, take a second before looking up. Look down. The doormat may be trying to tell you something. Sometimes the best way to determine where you are is to study what you’re standing on.
This column was written with help from ChatGPT, a tool that knows the consequences of walking across your clean floor with muddy shoes.
