08 July 2010

A list showing why my grandmother won't be decorating my apartment

My Grandparents have lived at the same address my entire life (and I don't expect them to move). Once or twice a year, my family and I make the seven-hour journey to their home. I have celebrated birthdays there. I have opened Christmas presents there. I enjoyed the majority of my 13th summer there. It is never long before we make plans for our next visit.

Consequently, I am quite familiar with their humble, brick abode. I have grown accustomed to the windowless, pitch-black rooms of the basement, the creepy, but well-lit doll room upstairs, and the toilet in the middle of the laundry room. I have adjusted to the creaky floor-boards, the odd feel of the water, and the frighteningly low ceiling fans.

But the familiarity of the place has caused me to overlook the peculiarity of several smaller objects. I took my grandmother's trinkets for granted . . . until our latest trip. My sister and I were joking about the dolls (again), and as though a veil had lifted, we started to see all the unusual objects my grandmother had not only collected, but also proudly displayed. Inspired, I snapped a few pictures, and share them now with you.



First, a sampling of the dolls - In the room upstairs, they line the walls. I count myself lucky to have a mere dresser top of them next to my bedside.




Second, a praying dinosaur - I had to ask about this one. Apparently my great-grandmother made it, presumably for one of my uncles. I can only guess what she was thinking. (Maybe . . . boys like dinosaurs . . . Baptists like prayer . . . Baptist grandsons like praying dinosaurs?)





Third, I don't know what this is - a crocheting project? You tell me. I'm not sure even Dr. Seuss could have envisioned this guy.





Fourth, a frog vase - looks like it was made for pencils or suckers, but when Grandma is in charge, he gets fake flowers put in his head.






Fifth, baskets with greenery - I don't mind the baskets, but I'm not sure the dusty lines of leaves are working for me. Notice the white bear on the right - for some reason I actually like his inclusion.




Sixth, a mismatched shelf - several of these can be seen, but I found this delightful arrangement of lamps, hats, baskets, and dolls to be a fabulous example.



Seventh, one of Grandpa's hats - these literally hang around the house. This one appeared when I shut the door and was surprised to see such a statement come from the corner. If only I could find a hat that concurs or dissents to hang nearby next visit.




Eighth, a wreath and a basket - Although it seemed odd to find it hanging on the middle of a bedroom wall, I think the combination is laudable.




Ninth, Raggedy Ann and Andy - Again, this pair can be found in various forms throughout the house, but I appreciated the over-sized heads on this duo the best.



Tenth, the couch - Pottery Barn can't touch the craftsmanship here. This comfy three-seater has been a favorite of mine for years. I've watched movies on it, played video games on it, and slept on it. I will cry if this couch ever disappears.

24 June 2010

The negatives: A list of things I don't like

(This list seemed a natural choice to follow up the last one)

*Fake flowers or plants
*Good-byes
*Clingy people
*When people catch me singing/talking to myself
*Expectations/Obligations
*Animals - especially birds - in cages (see below)
*Frivolous/Flighty/Flaky girls or women
*Arrogant/Inconsiderate/Obsessed boys or men
*The question "how are you?"
*Not knowing what to say to someone I haven't seen in a while
*Clarinets and Oboes
*Extremes - especially in regards to emotion or opinion
*Picking favorites of things
*Movies made for shock value
*The fact I need to sleep (so much wasted time)
*When my face is flushed
*When I'm so nervous I shake
*Not knowing a good way to end something



Something you may already know: I learned not too long ago that when you keep a bird as a pet, it is necessary to have it's wings clipped - but not just to keep it from escaping. When birds who don't normally fly try to, they end up running in to walls or windows which can hurt/kill them. So, if you take away their freedom, you must also take away their flight.

20 June 2010

Sometimes pictures scream
When voices only stutter.
I've seen these visions
And heard the truths
I simply couldn't utter.

Pictures in the mind can stay
Long after the words are swept
By and unknown creature
Or nothing at all,
Just forgotten
Like last week's breakfast.

Why is it that eyes can trigger
What ears - which never close - can miss?
Memories so important
By my senses all but lost

Though I reach so desperately for them.

17 June 2010

Not sure this one counts as a quote, but since it happened again . . .

"Close your eyes, and picture . . ." are the words I heard until I tuned out of a very cliche and consequently boring illustration. Sadly, I have (once again) been asked to close my eyes and picture myself in a ridiculous situation or somehow retrieve an image of the most important thing in my life. Every time someone has made such a request, I have been lost to my own ponderings. First, I dislike such practices because they leave me more vulnerable than I prefer. Second, I wouldn't be able to visualize any better (when I close my eyes, I can never "see" anything). And third, when I close my eyes I do not care what I see - I care what I hear, smell, feel, and already know (most of all, what I know). Without my sight, I am left with understanding, and sight is no longer important.


So why ask? I suppose many people must close their eyes because this world is so distracting. Picturing a specific image is difficult when we are bombarded with the hundreds present in every room. When we close our eyes, our reality fades into the background and we become more aware of ourselves. But I still don't appreciate having to close my eyes to the hundreds of objects around me in order to remember or imagine one specific thing. When you ask me to close my eyes, you cater to my inability to focus. Concentration is a skill to be learned in every situation - not just the ones we so carefully contrive.




Why do you ask me to see with my eyes closed, when you should ask me to understand - even though my eyes are open?






Bonus quotation (or rather, one I do not believe I could post about, but love anyway): "Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise above the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself." - Walter Anderson

15 June 2010

A list of things I like

(I am starting simple with this list idea)

*Music - especially Rachmaninoff, Classical with a cello featured, acoustic/folk music, feel-good oldies, strong melodies and lyrics, and intriguing chord progressions
*Movies - anything that will intrigue me, make me see something in a new way, laugh out loud, smile several days after watching it, and surprise me
*Books - particularly those with a unique voice, tongue-in-cheek sense of humor, strong characters, poetic-like prose, and quotability
*Photography - especially black and white, closeups of people, moments captured, or pictures of the ever-changing sky
*Questions that challenge my thinking
*Plays on words and phrases
*Coffee, chocolate, chips & salsa, peanut butter, cheese and crackers, and I had better stop with the food . . .
*Pretending I know more than I do about something
*Inside/on-going jokes
*Playing piano when no one is listening
*Explaining things
*Eyes, smiles, strong arms and hands, dark hair (sigh)
*Trumpets, saxophones, guitars, cellos
*Imagery concerning light
*Listening to intelligent (not pretentious) conversation
*Reading aloud
*Finishing things