(Objects with memory)
After reviewing grandmother's items and pondering their meaning or the meaning in relationship to her, I look at my own objects,
the few objects that I love to touch again and again, that jot a particular memory or person.
Much of the artwork that I have from various collections, feels the same. (priceless, or outside of a consumerist mentality.)
My home would not be a home without them.
I'm thinking of this passage in relationship to what we were talking about, mining from one's own history. I'm also thinking about the view I had from my hammock the first day we camped. It was the first sense of grounding and at 'home' feeling that I had since we moved from Europe. I remember Claire asking/telling me in the first workshop what I would paint if all the politics and my own emotions were removed. I decisively did not have to think twice, trees. This, I'm thinking of in relation to one's inner, natural structure.
Our conversation always means so much to me, but this one struck a few cords that I want to thank you for.