Right now I’m contemplating how to frame an artwork that a friend did for me years ago. It’s got me thinking about all the objects I own – and people I know own – that tell the stories of us.
I still use a Garfield comic mug with a heart-shaped handle that was given to me by friends in highschool. And among my nic-naks is a Snoopy trophy that says ‘worlds greatest dancer’; a gift from a friend when I was ten or eleven years old.
In with my collection of shells, there’s a stick I used to draw a big picture in the sand at a beach one stormy day. I’ve never really known why I kept it.
There are the Casa Milà chimney pot statues my brother brought back from a Barcelona trip knowing my love for Antoni Gaudi.
A sleeve-board I bought for $10 in my local Op-Shop during my last big sewing phase.
Elegant coloured flutes (the drinking kind) my mother bought me. A gorgeous faux-leather bound collection of Sherlock Holmes stories my dad bought me.
And this lino-cut print that a friend did for me.
Which tells you a vast range of things about me. Not the least of which is that I’ve wonderful friends and family in my life!