Yesterday I was having a conversation with someone about the crafts of the 70s, and I brought up decoupage. Immediately this rock came to mind. I started thinking about this rock that has been in my parent’s home as long as I can remember. This rock is not mine, I didn’t make it, I don’t even know the whole story behind it. I think my older sister might have made it, or it might have just been a sample my mom made to use as demonstration for girl scouts, I’m not sure. Anyway, here is this rock. To another eye, I’m sure it is absolutely hideous, but this rock has been in my life forever. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have no attachment to this rock. I didn’t sleep with it in my bed, or give it a name or take it to show and tell. I’m sure it’s had it’s day of being used to hold down corners of blankets while making indoor forts, or to keep papers from blowing away. It got me thinking about things that might not mean much to you, other than they have been in your life for so long.
Do you have anything in your life that is significant, possibly just because of the amount of time it has hung around?
Later in the evening I went over to my parent’s house to bring in their mail while they were on a trip. There is this hanging planter/mosaic wooden box by their front door that they stick stuff in for each of us kids to pick up (junk mail still being delivered, little presents, etc.) and I looked inside the box and there was the rock. Weird.
So, now if I didn’t think this rock had much significance before, now I am beginning to wonder. It’s totally 70s, look at it, it’s got holly hobby on the side and mickey mouse on the top, there is also some crocheted stuff on top, and all of this is just magazine clip art, decoupaged like crazy on this rock, so well, that 30 years later it is still going strong.
I think that the longer something is in my life, the more significant it becomes. Example, the hat. It was just a stupid K-mart hat that I probably bought for $8, but I wore that hat for many years and it kept me warm. People made fun of that hat, but I didn’t care, every winter I grew fonder and fonder of it.
I remember when I was a kid how I was amazed by people who always wore the same pieces of jewelry or clothing, or always carried the same stuffed animal, or whatever form a prized possession might take. The pieces became their signature pieces; associated with the person, just as much as their smile or laugh. I think I admired that in other people because when I was younger I was never able to hold on to anything long enough before losing it or losing interest and moving onto the next item. As I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten a lot better about not losing things, which has allowed me to become quite connected with many of my personal possessions. I’ve grown into the type of adult I would have admired in that regard, which I think is pretty cool.