Forever Bound Art

Archive for August, 2012|Monthly archive page

Little Obessions

In Collecting, Family Heirlooms on August 25, 2012 at 4:21 pm

It feels like an addiction.  The verdict is still out on whether it’s a healthy one or not.  Collecting stuff.   In our case, vintage or antique “stuff”.   Little pieces of memories or precious artifacts keep filling our home.  We weren’t  going to go to any estate sales this weekend, didn’t even check the newspaper.  I am driving to work and there’s that yellow sign showing me the way.  We went, after work that is.

I think there is more than one pull for me on collecting all these antiques.  As I have stated numerous times, I have a strong desire on preserving the past.  Telling their story, but also discovering it.  I let all these trinkets that come into our home “call” to me.  I pick something up and I feel.  Yes, feel.  Not like stroking my hands all over it, I’m not that weird.  But, feel.  What story does this have, what story can that tell me.  The Historian in me wants to hear the tale, but I even more strongly want to share it.  I want to be that story-teller, a modern-day folk tale. A gypsy without the lies.  Recently, I landed four boxes of a family’s life.  It feels like their entire life anyway.  Boxes of postcards, letters, pictures, date books, diplomas, newspaper clippings, all that personal paper that you can’t ever get rid of.  I own it now.  Or do I?  I certainly own the parafanaillia, but can I own their story? No, but I can cherish it and maybe even write about it. Mike and I spent hour after hour flipping through paper after paper, picture after picture.  Over a bottle of wine and my grandmother’s dining room table we pieced together how everyone was related based on old cursive hand writing.  We touched newspaper clippings from 1890’s regarding the beginning of prohibition.  I’m still blown away with having newspaper clippings from pre 1900’s.  History all over the place and I have been chosen to give it life once again.

Here lies just one of those reasons why I do what I do.   The breath of life and honoring one’s existence.  Holding hands with those that shaped who we are today.  Continuing to shed light for those who wonder what was.  Strengthening bonds of our foundation.  All of that and more.   Maybe someday I will make lots of money preserving the past, in the meantime I am blissfully happy finding what was.

Imprints from our souls

In Uncategorized on August 8, 2012 at 12:39 pm

The relationship between a mother and a son captured in time.  Adoration and respect from years of caregiving, strength and patience. A father on his eldest daughters wedding day.  He looks toward the camera with pride and longing for a childhood that has long passed.  Adventure and kinship surrounded by wonderment led by dad.  All of these photos have the power to represent an entire life of learning, longing, pride and the continuum of life.  They beg the question of how did we get to where we are now.  We all naturally search for answers to life’s many questions and photographs seem to be a beginning to the ‘why’.  I wonder why we never seem to have the questions when we can actually ask the person we seek answers from.  I can say avoidance, or simply that humans dislike confrontation and emotional moments.  I believe it is because when we are with our role models our eyes are focused on learning and the yearn leads us greater than the why.  It isn’t until later we question why our ancestors did what they did.  No one truly knows why we are here or what we are suppose to teach each other.  Yet, we seek the answers from our elders, our mothers and fathers, aunts, uncles, teachers, prophets and the next door neighbor.  We mourn when we feel that sense of abandonment from our family and friends who have passed.  A grievance of having to learn without them.  Sometimes when I emotionally stumble, I question how I am suppose to go through something without the support from my deceased brother.  I rub my thumb over the photo frame as tears roll down my face.  I can feel our loved ones passed shake their heads and say ‘child, I am never gone from you. Hold your head up high and remember what has been taught.  Smile, love and breath.’  The thumb rubbing stops and I sigh.  All better for now, I received the message.

Photographs have always been our most precious physical possessions.  One hears of a fire that a friend has, we grieve over their lost photographs not the home or the furniture. All else is replaceable, photos that tell us our life stories are not.  I will leave you with this last thought.  Is everything held in a piece of paper of images or are those events and emotions imprinted in our hard drive?  Deep down we all know they are, but I still want my photographs.  I know that I want to see my connections from generation to generation.  Selfishly I want to be able to learn from my ancestors, I want to feel.  Whether privately or publicly, I want to learn from our role models and leaders.  I want to feel.

Our Sunday Funday, Holy Pickin’!

In Clubs and Networking, Collecting, Jewelry, Traveling & Antiques on August 1, 2012 at 1:00 am

Little did we expect all the Antique fun we had this past Sunday!   Who knew there would be sales on Holy Day?  Our intention was to go view a few radios at a friend’s house after church.  Our unexpected journey began with a sign on a country road reading “Barn Sale”.  I think Mike almost went off the road.  We had that moment of questioning “Is it an old sign, Is it for real, Can it be?”   Sure enough we rolled up that road and that gorgeous red barn had its doors wide open welcoming us.   Not to mention it had that golden sign screaming “Furniture”!  Woohoo!  I think Mike would have passed out if the sign read “Old Radios”.   Though we didn’t end up with furniture or radios, I did get two galvanized buckets and some old milk bottles with carrier.  The fun began picking in church clothes.  I basically said, “Ah hell, the clothes will wash, rock it.”

As you have already read, this past weekend was the beginning of Mike’s retirement.  For retirement fun, and simply because I can, my beautician talked me into putting hot pink highlights into my already blonde highlighted hair. Mike loved it.   All weekend we kept saying to each other these two lines: “I’m retired (or Your retired)” and “I have pink hair (or YOU have PINK HAIR!)”  Of course the laughter went on from there, the sappy hand holding and lots of big smiles (and smooches).  So, needless to say, wearing church clothes and touring the country side stopping at yard sales in 90 degree weather added to the hilarity and much fun.

We headed onward towards our radio destination and lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant, not expecting to be stopped once again by a golden yard sale sign.  “Oh by gosh, by golly, It’s time for mistletoe and holly”, I could have sworn it was Christmas in July.  Bought a vintage green umbrella (absolutely adorable, I have it hanging off a ladder back chair right now in our loft) and Mike got Beethoven’s  Symphonies Nos.1 and 9, 33 1/3 Long Play.  Even better yet,  the owner of the sale took notice to my Celtic Flower bracelet that I made.  She asked for a business card and BAM!  Here I was buying AND selling! Unbelievable! (you can view more of our work on Facebook, Forever Bound Art)

No countrysides covered in snow, but sure enough there was yet another sale.  Mike and I were euphoric with my pink hair and retired shopping attitudes.  This sign said “ANTIQUES”.  Be still my heart.  With our tummies rumbling and friends wondering where we were, we turned the corner and continued on in those church clothes and Alfani shoes.  This sale was the BEST ever.  Not because we purchased anything, but because we met wonderful people.  The absolute best part of this job.  American Pickers would agree to that statement.  I stepped out of the vehicle and had a very girl moment.  I yelled out to the three ladies near the barn “Have you seen any snakes?”  I might have squealled.  I try very hard to be all rough when I am in guy territory, but this here was a different story in my cute shoes out in the heat. All was well, they giggled and welcomed me with open arms.  Our antique sale was truly an antique sale.

This here is a picture of Jamie Herron Mitchell, one of the daughters selling with her mother. Simply adorable and fun-loving individual.

Jamie bequeathed us with this sign, stating that we needed it.  In case you are wondering, there is no cure for the Antique Pox.

When tummies were fed and radios were seen, we did make one last stop.   Making time to visit a fellow friend in the antique business who runs a booth in an antique mall.  He was not interested in a photo but agreed to take a picture of the sweaty church goers.  Here we are with a porcelain covered ashtray.  I wanted this trinket with a W on it to hang in our bedroom.  Pre-birthday gift I called it.  Yes, I bought from a picker at an antique mall.  I did get a friends and family discount 🙂  p.s. If anyone can identify this logo I’d greatly appreciate it.

It’s Christmas everyday with my husband and this career.  Man, I love antiques.  Happy Antique shoppping to you my friends, happy shopping!

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