Tag: momblog

love of object

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Taking home a new feathered friend purchased this past spring at a flea market

“Caring too much for objects can destroy you. Only—if you care for a thing enough, it takes on a life of its own, doesn’t it? And isn’t the whole point of things—beautiful things—that they connect you to some larger beauty? Those first images that crack your heart wide open and you spend the rest of your life chasing, or trying to recapture, in one way or another”  -James “Hobie” Hobart, The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

Anyone who knows me and by extension my family, knows our love of object. Our house is full of stuff. Artwork, furniture, knick knacks, bric-a-brac filling walls, crowding surfaces.

My daughter found a deer antler on a hike. An all-time favorite object of hers.
The deer antler sits on an antique sewing table passed down from my grandmother along with a collection of mushroom curios.

I like collecting things. My husband likes collecting things. My oldest daughter likes collecting things and I’m sure this desire will soon be apparent in my youngest daughter. Frequenting flea markets and antiques shops has long been a pass time in our household. Found objects on hikes have recently taken a front seat to our collection.

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An entire shelf is dedicated to these lovely sculptures. On rainy days my husband and oldest daughter sculpt silly and curious creatures out of colorful clay.

We collect but we don’t stow it away. We find one last corner on the side table to proudly display our latest find. We add another piece above the last treasure on the wall, salon-style, so that when we turn the corner to go up the stairs we can see it and enjoy it if only in the fleeting moment it takes us to go from one step to the other.

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Not a square inch of space is spared on our walls even in the corners of rooms.

My husband and I will occasionally fawn over a minimalist mid-century modern interior in some fancy design magazine. We flirt with the idea of paring down our collection but then we hit the road in search of some antique shop we haven’t frequented in a while and find one more thing to add to our home.

My daughters’ room is cozy with an ever increasing library of books, games and toys.
Atop of my oldest daughter’s wardrobe sits a collection of keepsakes that I hope she will treasure always.

A cleared surface may bring order but I think living with objects around you provokes inspiration far better than an empty space. I happily look in on my daughters’ room and see walls covered, bookshelves crammed. There are never enough books to own or knick knacks to look at—I’d like to think my daughters are inspired to create, play, and imagine amongst it all.

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My youngest daughter intrigued by the many things adorning her sister’s bedroom wall.

My family and I are like magpies—always on the hunt for the next shiny object to add to our collection. Our home will never be minimalist, never sparse, never empty.

I live with a lot of stuff and I won’t soon relinquish my desire to keep it, display it, love it. There is great beauty in this world and I’d like to think my love of object puts that beauty within my grasp.

 

Never a breath you can afford to waste

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On our honeymoon on Vancouver Island, British Columbia, 2007

Don’t the hours grow shorter as the days go by
We never get to stop and open our eyes
One minute you’re waiting for the sky to fall
The next you’re dazzled by the beauty of it all -Bruce Cockburn, Lovers in a Dangerous Time

45w

Thirteen years ago I met a Canadian in New York who would become my soul mate. A few days ago we celebrated his newest role in life as a father and at week’s end we will celebrate our role together as a married couple.

It goes without saying that my husband is a great father to our daughters. His homecomings at days’ end are greeted with jumps, smiles and “Daddy!” squeals from the girls. The unconditional love he has for (and is reciprocated by) our daughters is apparent in the hundred dozen pictures I have taken of them.

He encourages them when they are afraid to take that first step. He teaches them table manners and the polite way to ask for something. He gives pointers on knife skills in the kitchen and how to do the back float in the pool. He shows them the joy of a walk in the woods. He makes dad jokes. He is a present and mindful father.

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As we celebrate our anniversary this weekend, I’d like to think we have lived a present life together.  But of course, the doldrums of life take a hold of us from time to time. Even if the day-to-day lacks luster, moments of spectacular happen in our lives.

Spectacular days, like your wedding day, make you nostalgic. But instead of reminiscing on days gone by, I’d like to think we are encouraged by this nostalgia. In so far, as we seek out opportunities for more felicitous moments to grab, capture and tuck away for safe keeping until we are old and grey and can reflect back on a life well-lived.

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And so this week, my soul mate is six years a father to my daughters and nine years my husband. For me, these once-a-year-holidays are a gentle reminder to immerse yourself in the present. Monikers like father and husband, mother and wife don’t quite suffice as a definition of us but those moments that he and I have lived together do.