ancestor's gift
One morning, back in 2001, I embarked on one of my many bargain-hunting excursions with my childhood mate. Our plans included him taking me to a couple of his favourite NYC outdoor flea markets.
One could call me a skeptic long before it was supposed, so I really never thought I'd find a bargain in NYC - much less in trendy Chelsea. He & I had grown up in S.C. & had thrifted our way from there to NYC, so this market was more-or-less just supposed to be about spending a quality time with a mate.
After digging through many piles of crap that I knew these sellers had grabbed for nothing elsewhere & were selling for not-so-bargain, bargain prices, I stumbled across these four metal claw-foot, with glass ball end "thingies".
They were in a massive junk pile in a basket on the ground & I was immediately & inexplicably drawn to them. Without thinking, I'd decided I HAD to have them - whatever they were - and didn't know why.
I managed to haggle the merchant down to $5 and as the burly stall-holder was placing them in a paper bag, he explained they were old piano stool leg ends. I repressed a smile, because without knowing it, he'd answered the "I don't know why the hell I'm buying this" question rattling silently about in my mind.
You see, my Mum's a pianist. Growing up, she was actually the lady in church pianist. I remember sitting in the pews, watching her play & it made me feel so proud - that was MY MUM up there! My great Grandmother - long gone before I was born - had also been a musician. She was actually a music teacher - an educated woman in America - way before the education of women was the "norm".
So, there I was, in NYC, digging through piles of crap - the energy of my ancestor deftly guiding my hands to these objects I felt I HAD to have, but wasn't certain why. And before I even had the chance to contemplate the matter, here was this surly gentleman unwittingly tieing my illogical impulse purchase neatly together.
Sometimes, life seems so clear. Sometimes, we think it's clear & we have retrospect moments when we realise situations weren't as they had first appeared. Life gets messy. We tend to get mired in the insignificant & don't even know it's occurring.
On this day, in Chelsea, without expectation or want, I'd received a gift. I decided to honour this gift by designing a pot rack entirely around my find. The wall-mounts are adjustable Umbra curtain rod mounts (Bed Bath & Beyond), the white bars are simple wooden dowels (hardware store) painted white. The cast-iron skillets are my Grandmother's & the ends are, well you know what they are.
This wall's just to the left of my bedroom entryway & every time I walk through, I smile & remember the day my great-grandmother guided & spoke to me, though we had never met.
I try to stay humble & kind & to remember the simple things in life are the things which hold the most meaning. It is now 2008 & I am again reminded that wherever I go, the spirit & the strength of my ancestors surrounds me. For this, I am grateful. To you all, a loving thank you, for I know we shall meet one day.
photographer: a. golden, eyewash design: 01 Jan. 08, NYC
For more information, please visit: www.myspace.com/nycloft
ancestor's gift
One morning, back in 2001, I embarked on one of my many bargain-hunting excursions with my childhood mate. Our plans included him taking me to a couple of his favourite NYC outdoor flea markets.
One could call me a skeptic long before it was supposed, so I really never thought I'd find a bargain in NYC - much less in trendy Chelsea. He & I had grown up in S.C. & had thrifted our way from there to NYC, so this market was more-or-less just supposed to be about spending a quality time with a mate.
After digging through many piles of crap that I knew these sellers had grabbed for nothing elsewhere & were selling for not-so-bargain, bargain prices, I stumbled across these four metal claw-foot, with glass ball end "thingies".
They were in a massive junk pile in a basket on the ground & I was immediately & inexplicably drawn to them. Without thinking, I'd decided I HAD to have them - whatever they were - and didn't know why.
I managed to haggle the merchant down to $5 and as the burly stall-holder was placing them in a paper bag, he explained they were old piano stool leg ends. I repressed a smile, because without knowing it, he'd answered the "I don't know why the hell I'm buying this" question rattling silently about in my mind.
You see, my Mum's a pianist. Growing up, she was actually the lady in church pianist. I remember sitting in the pews, watching her play & it made me feel so proud - that was MY MUM up there! My great Grandmother - long gone before I was born - had also been a musician. She was actually a music teacher - an educated woman in America - way before the education of women was the "norm".
So, there I was, in NYC, digging through piles of crap - the energy of my ancestor deftly guiding my hands to these objects I felt I HAD to have, but wasn't certain why. And before I even had the chance to contemplate the matter, here was this surly gentleman unwittingly tieing my illogical impulse purchase neatly together.
Sometimes, life seems so clear. Sometimes, we think it's clear & we have retrospect moments when we realise situations weren't as they had first appeared. Life gets messy. We tend to get mired in the insignificant & don't even know it's occurring.
On this day, in Chelsea, without expectation or want, I'd received a gift. I decided to honour this gift by designing a pot rack entirely around my find. The wall-mounts are adjustable Umbra curtain rod mounts (Bed Bath & Beyond), the white bars are simple wooden dowels (hardware store) painted white. The cast-iron skillets are my Grandmother's & the ends are, well you know what they are.
This wall's just to the left of my bedroom entryway & every time I walk through, I smile & remember the day my great-grandmother guided & spoke to me, though we had never met.
I try to stay humble & kind & to remember the simple things in life are the things which hold the most meaning. It is now 2008 & I am again reminded that wherever I go, the spirit & the strength of my ancestors surrounds me. For this, I am grateful. To you all, a loving thank you, for I know we shall meet one day.
photographer: a. golden, eyewash design: 01 Jan. 08, NYC
For more information, please visit: www.myspace.com/nycloft