I'm so grateful I was able to take every object I own from it's place on a shelf, hold it, consider it's value and decide if it's a keeper or something I send back out into the universe. It was lonely but also celebratory. I had so many friends help with the process and remind me of my Alyn-ness.
Because the unpacked boxes in the house (I can't yet think about the toolshed) are really countable on two hands, I hung out here with one year old Wallace yesterday. Introducing tiny ones to things that are bumpy or fluffy or smooth or shiny or smell good and watching the reaction has always been one of the joys in my life. I've been reminded what it is that I love about things, especially beautiful ones. Someone made them. They thought about a need and used their imagination to dream up and produce an object for me to fall in love with.
Thank you makers of beautiful things. Pretty nice I don't have to own to love.
“I love
all things,
not because they are passionate or sweet-smelling
but because,
I don’t know,
because
this ocean is yours,
and mine:
these buttons
and wheels
and little
forgotten
treasures,
fans upon
whose feathers
love has scattered
its blossoms,
glasses, knives and
scissors –
all bear
the trace
of someone’s fingers
on their handle or surface,
the trace of a distant hand
lost
in the depths of forgetfulness.”
From Neruda's "Ode to Common Things"
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| My favorite tiny vase. Card from Chrissy seems to be the colors I want around me right now. |
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| Rough Linen bed set crumples beautifully. |
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| Almost parted with the manicurist vanity and chair. So happy I didn't. |
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| Fresh paint from Sunday. Finally back to painting. |
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