History of Glynis
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The temperature was near 90 degrees today. I decided to go through the boxes and storage bins I deposited in my parents' garage as I was moving to Oregon.
I knew my food processor was in there somewhere---I miss it whenever I contemplate cooking a real meal. My large windchimes were tucked away in a tall box. They hung on my enclosed porch in Rochester, a soothing gong sound wafting through the house on warm afternoons and steadier as the breeze picked up before a storm. And my metal chairs, oh, my antique metal lawn chairs. Purchased from an old building that my agency was rehabbing and painted glossy purple and bright green for my backyard.
I didn't sell my wok afterall, so I will try to ship it to the coast. Along with some lids to Pyrex dishes that I have, some office supplies, a pretty pie plate, a serving dish, some clothes, some photos, maybe my rolling pin. I don't know what makes me think I'll have time to use a rolling pin when I get back.
There were boxes of photos--I've had a camera for a loooong time. College, old boyfriends, my house, my wedding album and our house, vacations, past pets, past friends and all of the good times and bad times ticked through my head like rows of dominoes. I opened one box to find framed photos that fit so well in my Melville Street house and similar frames that I had planned to use there, also. I decided to leave the framed photos and take the unused frames with me, try to fit them into my current cubby.
If I were to disappear tomorrow, what would people think of my life based on the papers, pictures and paraphenalia encased in Rubbermaid? Saved birthday cards, a poster from a Bobby McFerrin concert at the Eastman, letters from my grandmother, kitchen gadgets, a waffle iron, a quilt started by my great-grandmother and finished by my grandmother, college text books, old darkroom equipment, the "Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes," Depression glass, an Oriental rug from a once-close friend, a perfume bottle collection, an old, old teddy bear and a stuffed Ziggy wearing a sweater that I knitted him. It has a "W" sewn on---for "Wings," as in "Paul McCartney and." There are other things like the final John Lennon "Rolling Stone" photographed by Annie Lebowitz and a beautiful 100 year old potting table. And a Garden Weasel. Some strange pieces of the puzzle that is me.
When I was here three years ago, I was looking for the framed quote in today's photo. Though the piece wasn't with me, the quote has been with me since I read it, and the light on it glowed when I photographed it. Such, I suppose, it is with these things in boxes--representations of memories that glow when you think of them and a life that will always be with me no matter where I go.
The temperature was near 90 degrees today. I decided to go through the boxes and storage bins I deposited in my parents' garage as I was moving to Oregon.
I knew my food processor was in there somewhere---I miss it whenever I contemplate cooking a real meal. My large windchimes were tucked away in a tall box. They hung on my enclosed porch in Rochester, a soothing gong sound wafting through the house on warm afternoons and steadier as the breeze picked up before a storm. And my metal chairs, oh, my antique metal lawn chairs. Purchased from an old building that my agency was rehabbing and painted glossy purple and bright green for my backyard.
I didn't sell my wok afterall, so I will try to ship it to the coast. Along with some lids to Pyrex dishes that I have, some office supplies, a pretty pie plate, a serving dish, some clothes, some photos, maybe my rolling pin. I don't know what makes me think I'll have time to use a rolling pin when I get back.
There were boxes of photos--I've had a camera for a loooong time. College, old boyfriends, my house, my wedding album and our house, vacations, past pets, past friends and all of the good times and bad times ticked through my head like rows of dominoes. I opened one box to find framed photos that fit so well in my Melville Street house and similar frames that I had planned to use there, also. I decided to leave the framed photos and take the unused frames with me, try to fit them into my current cubby.
If I were to disappear tomorrow, what would people think of my life based on the papers, pictures and paraphenalia encased in Rubbermaid? Saved birthday cards, a poster from a Bobby McFerrin concert at the Eastman, letters from my grandmother, kitchen gadgets, a waffle iron, a quilt started by my great-grandmother and finished by my grandmother, college text books, old darkroom equipment, the "Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes," Depression glass, an Oriental rug from a once-close friend, a perfume bottle collection, an old, old teddy bear and a stuffed Ziggy wearing a sweater that I knitted him. It has a "W" sewn on---for "Wings," as in "Paul McCartney and." There are other things like the final John Lennon "Rolling Stone" photographed by Annie Lebowitz and a beautiful 100 year old potting table. And a Garden Weasel. Some strange pieces of the puzzle that is me.
When I was here three years ago, I was looking for the framed quote in today's photo. Though the piece wasn't with me, the quote has been with me since I read it, and the light on it glowed when I photographed it. Such, I suppose, it is with these things in boxes--representations of memories that glow when you think of them and a life that will always be with me no matter where I go.
Comments