In my study of things I see them mostly as just things. Nothing of value in and of themselves but rather a representation of value spent to acquire them. Things are mostly real. Yet what is “real” to most people are not the things themselves but what they represent.
On our Museum visit I took note of the baskets. Each basket held a story of some kind, either from making it or the pattern on it.
I thought about my own life and the things in it. I wonder why most of what I have and have done has never made me truly happy or content. I have never really thought about how I am seen because of what I make or do and the image presented about me from my things.
I have to deal with mistakes and consequences of my actions all the time. When I by things I see them as just things to try and make me happy for a time. But it does not last, the debts rises up, and things about everything I have done in the past just pulls my down even more.
While I am not a basket maker, I quilt from time to time. What story could I leave in my quilts? What will be left when I am gone?
I hope a story and not just things and regrets. I want my representation to be one greater than the self.
- BOOK
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