Okay, at the risk of sounding whiny, I'm still not 100%... So, I thought I would write about the inanimate objects without whom my life would be incomplete. Some of these things link back to real people. so. fear not. Once this weather clears I'll get sentimental again...
Yeah.
1. Grandmama's chair
Aside from one book case and my hope chest, this chair is the only thing that has moved with me out of my parents' house and every move after that. It actually does not really remind me of my grandmother save only for the fact that it was hers. I don't even remember where it was in her house. I'm not sure why I'm so attached to it. It's not comfortable. It's not pretty. It's not the perfect fit for a lonely corner. There's no convenient way to put a decent reading lamp above it, around it, near it. Maybe it's for the simple fact that it has accompanied me from place to place... this chair has followed me to Richmond, back to my parents', and to three apartments in Williamsburg. Despite its complete lack of usefulness, it's a necessary part of any room that I dare to call my own.
2. My favorite tea cup
I'm pretty sure my mother bought me my favorite tea cup. It's just so simple and beautiful to me... a dark blue, thin, bone china mug with a white handle. All over the body, one sees the solar system. It's elegant and serene... perfect for a proper cup of tea and a good book on a chilly, dark day. I can hear the soundtracks of Carl Sagan's The Cosmos series or Contact when I look at it. On the flip side, there's another truly ugly cup that I adore... it's a Happy Holidays cup, green, with an absurd black and pink poinsettia patterned dress with no body inside it on the round surface of the mug. Yes, it's hideous... but I quite like it. Perfect for PJs and cocoa.
3. My book collection
I'm one of those people... for some it's teddy bears, others it's vintage Barbie dolls, and others still it's action figures or DVDs. My stupid, exponentially growing hoard of things would be my book collection. I have trouble checking things out at the library... not for research, but for books in which I have an interest in spending time with it, reading it, thinking on it, etc, I prefer my own copy. I tend to underline things I wish to remember in my paperbacks, so, I obviously can't do this with a book belonging to someone else. It's an impulse... if I'm in a bookstore, I really have to talk myself through leaving books behind if I'm either already reading too many books at once or have to admit that if I buy that book on the display shelf I will never actually read it. Still, I wouldn't feel like myself without a large number of books surrounding me. I have this fantasy of living in a cozy house somewhere in which I have a room devoted to my books... shelves lining the walls top to bottom...
4. My tins
I have a tin for each of my friends who writes me or leaves me notes. The heaviest two are Jo's (we didn't really pay attention in French class) and my pen pal's. I used to just have this stupid tin collection in middle school because I thought they were "old-looking" and different. I have a few for some ex-boyfriends, too, to which I decided to hold on to help in aiding the lovesick generation to come. I can't part with most of my cards and letters from people. Sometimes they wander out to become bookmarks or to cheer me up when I'm questioning my relationships for whatever ridiculous reason. Obviously, one can say that, "With one hand the past ushers us forward and with the other it holds us back," but I have my head on about how people change, how feelings change... I just like to remember a sincere moment here and there.
5. The many, many journals
Since I was at least 10, I've kept a journal of some kind. For a while, it was pretty intense... I had a journal for every interest (similar to how I keep this blog, rather than a day for each topic, I had a separate journal) ranging from religion, life drama/lessons, concepts for novels/short stories, poetry, science/astronomy, etc. Nowadays, outside of this blog, I have three journals with which I desperately try to keep up... my concept journal (named Sabrina... it's a long, sweet story), my spirituality journal that follows me to church, temple, and the Buddhist temple, and my poetry journal. I also have this great ugly one in which I sketch out my ideas for gatherings such as tea parties, birthdays, Mom's renewal, etc. I keep them all the way I keep my letter collections as I fill each journal like a tin of thoughts, letters, and memories.
Some other time I'll consider my other precious object friends (starting with my absurd Alice collection...)...
No comments:
Post a Comment