Even in my household purging, I feel better now about hanging on to some things that give evidence of what once was and what is and memories of where I've been--gathered stones from Haiti (the year I tucked in my suitcase written on each in black marker), stones mostly from Lake Superior, shells, chunks of marble from Marble, CO, a stone from the Sea of Galilee and a pebble picked up from where David was supposed to have killed Goliath. Our guide said they were probably trucked in from town for the tourists to find. I "stole" a piece of pottery from some old ruins in Israel.
I laughed at "Pretty lady, you my first customer today, I give you special price!" when Luci was in the Old City. Been there. Done that. That's how I ended up with so much olive wood, including a manger. We were one of the first groups in when the country opened up after Covid, so it was my duty to buy. ;-)
I also still have on a bookshelf the found poem and art I created on that first trip (gifted) to Laity Lodge when I was a "deep see diver" and my mom was in her last days...
the window
of words influence
life
Books
a joy to be savored
looking for something...something
eyes danced in deep water
Luci was born two days before my mother. My first collection of hers was Harvesting Fog after Glynn wrote about it. And I kept collecting her words. I finally got to meet her at Wheaton where she autographed my copy of Adventure of Ascent: Field notes from a Lifelong Journey:
And it's lovely to hear of all the "evidence" you've collected over the years. Perhaps when we want to be someone new, that's the time to get rid of some of the evidence. And perhaps when we really love the shape of who we are, and would like to lean into that further, that's when we rearrange the evidence—maybe give it a more prominent place—to tell the story again to us each day as we move through our personal spaces. Of course, evidence always fits in poems, yes? (We have an especial love for collections of stones. Fun to hear about yours!)
"How does it see its ancient self in my post-modern world?"
That last line... "Evidence everywhere."
Even in my household purging, I feel better now about hanging on to some things that give evidence of what once was and what is and memories of where I've been--gathered stones from Haiti (the year I tucked in my suitcase written on each in black marker), stones mostly from Lake Superior, shells, chunks of marble from Marble, CO, a stone from the Sea of Galilee and a pebble picked up from where David was supposed to have killed Goliath. Our guide said they were probably trucked in from town for the tourists to find. I "stole" a piece of pottery from some old ruins in Israel.
I laughed at "Pretty lady, you my first customer today, I give you special price!" when Luci was in the Old City. Been there. Done that. That's how I ended up with so much olive wood, including a manger. We were one of the first groups in when the country opened up after Covid, so it was my duty to buy. ;-)
I also still have on a bookshelf the found poem and art I created on that first trip (gifted) to Laity Lodge when I was a "deep see diver" and my mom was in her last days...
the window
of words influence
life
Books
a joy to be savored
looking for something...something
eyes danced in deep water
Luci was born two days before my mother. My first collection of hers was Harvesting Fog after Glynn wrote about it. And I kept collecting her words. I finally got to meet her at Wheaton where she autographed my copy of Adventure of Ascent: Field notes from a Lifelong Journey:
"For Sandy, On the great adventure!"
I love Luci!
Your last line made us smile ("I love Luci!" :)
And it's lovely to hear of all the "evidence" you've collected over the years. Perhaps when we want to be someone new, that's the time to get rid of some of the evidence. And perhaps when we really love the shape of who we are, and would like to lean into that further, that's when we rearrange the evidence—maybe give it a more prominent place—to tell the story again to us each day as we move through our personal spaces. Of course, evidence always fits in poems, yes? (We have an especial love for collections of stones. Fun to hear about yours!)