in the company of treasures

When we moved last spring, merging the contents of a 5,000 square foot house into an already-furnished 3,000 square foot second home, a lot of things went up for adoption.

A lot.

But there were several things that simply have too much emotional and sentimental value for me to let go of completely. when it came to certain treasures, I just couldn’t do it. I know they’re just things. I know I’m supposed to be unattached. I know it’s just more to dust – but let’s face it: I’m just not that evolved as a woman.

I’m just not.

In no particular order, let me introduce you to some of my treasures:

The basket I purchased at the animal shelter fundraiser. It was made by a local woman, and it was love at first sight. Right now it holds shards to a pot gone bad, but soon enough it will go back to being the prayer vessel – where I put the daily prayers once I’ve written them on pretty paper.

The pottery piece turned candle dish that Andy and Kipp bought me while on a father/son bonding trip.

The little ceramic piece that captured my heart last year at the Storytelling Festival, the piece that rather represented the theme of a year past.

There’s the Christmas Cactus that my brother-in-law gave me when my Daddy died in December 2000. It had gotten so big, and when we moved up here, I put it out on the deck so it could enjoy some fresh air and sunshine which I tried to find a place to put it – it had gotten so big then one day along came a stiff wind and blew it into the falls. I wasn’t home, but my loving husband ventured out and picked up the few little pieces that didn’t make it into the water, and now we start again . . . with the plant, not the memories.

There’s this little doll-size party dress in a chipped frame that just makes my heart smile. I haven’t slowed down long enough to figure out why that is.

There’s this fairy cuddling a dragon whilst sitting atop a glass ball. My daughter and I saw these in a convenience store when we stopped for fuel on a trip to Hilton Head several years ago. Oh my goodness, how we laughed.

There’s the egg painting I saw when spending a delightful day in Fairhope, Alabama with my mother last year. Even though my bones told me to snag it that day, I didn’t – didn’t even get the name of the gallery. But when I couldn’t get it out of my mind after coming home, I tracked it down, whipped out the ole’ credit card, and within 10 days, it was hanging in my studio.

There’s the glass nib, a surprise gift from my son when we were visiting Hawaii several years ago. Oh how I enjoy using it.

This basket made from okra and cotton and such sat on the floor under a display in the gallery. It was marked half price, this beauty named Mother and Child, but I would’ve paid full price.

I call this an oddity, and it reminds me to wonder.

This piece, another gift from my son, is – like so many people I run into – prickly on the outside and filled with the sweetness of candy on the inside.

When my son brought his girlfriend home last July, we bopped into one of my favorite shops in Asheville but not before saying “Keep your eyes peeled for a red phone with a curly cord.” I had one in my hands within 7 minutes, and one day, I’m gonna’ show you why I wanted it so badly.

And when I do show you, I’ll also be using what’s inside here:

This:

makes me smile.

There are my stones

and the impractical pot my nephew Drew made for me – pure, unadulterated fun:

and the print I call Blue Girl Reading that I found on a trip I took with my daughter:

to name a few.

But here’s the problem . . . right now, they are just lined up atop the two cabinets I pulled into service when I surrendered my downstairs studio to hubs when we moved here full time lsat spring, sprinkling myself into every nook and cranny upstairs.

I’m a minimalist – I like space. And I like my treasures because they inspire and delight me, but right now, they are just clutter. Seeing clear horizontal surfaces and visible baseboards calms me, representing space for possibilities and creativity. Breathing space. The clutter coupled with the brown cabinets – brown is a color that for reasons I can’t explain, deflates me, well, something must be done. So my daughter (who’s so blazingly creative) and I put our heads together this afternoon and hatched some possible remedies. Stay tuned . . . we’ll be done by the time company comes for Thanksgiving.

Or bust.