Whimsical Window
As I sat here this evening, I felt as though I had not spent much time of late writing. Usually I have 6 or so essays I have spun out of my thoughts, and saved in a folder on my computer. Some blog posts are created one night, reworked slightly and posted the next day. Others spend a bit of time being mulled, either researching ideas that percolate, or doing draconic editing. The sentences get parsed, snipped, rearranged. I whittle my thought down to a written version that has no fat (ha! If only I could say that about the rest of me). As a long-ago college professor insisted, a sentence isn’t finished until there is virtually nothing in it that can be removed.
Of late, though, my well of “to work on” essays has dwindled. When I sat down tonight I felt uninspired by the “works in process” staring back at me from my computer screen. So, I hunted through my photos looking for inspiration, and landed on this one. I took it a number of weeks ago, as I loved the rosy pink tint coming in the antique window from the late afternoon sun. I love the blocks of colors – red, blue green, and the foliage of the ancient Basswood tree through the window. The charming elephant catches your eye – I mean quite literally, it is as though that black bullseye snags your attention. And then the ideas began to flow.
The very large green vase has sat on this window for a while now. It replaced a much loved TJMax Christmas gift from my children – a ridiculously large glass chicken on spring legs. My children would go with hubby before Christmas to do their “mom” shopping, and often a chicken would be found, mostly as a long-standing joke. Sadly, the chicken sank as it aged, and eventually needed to be retired when the springs gave out. The green vase resembles the chicken in size and coloring, actually, so I snagged it at a thrift shop for a few dollars. It is hand blown, with a pontil mark on the bottom. The black organic vines are a raised design twining along its surface. Even more interesting are the free form red shapes which are imbedded in the glass. I do not have a clue how any of this is done. But the thing weighs nearly 14 pounds, which I cannot imagine is easy for a glass blower to manipulate at the end of a very long rod. I am rather disappointed I cannot find a thing about it online – nor are there markings to help identify. For all I know it was purchased at TJMaxx and made in China recently. However, given the absolute lack of anything similar in a google search I am guessing not.
The piece sat alone for a long while, but eventually this adorable child’s toy joined it on the window ledge. Also a thrift store find, and just too bright and fun to pass up – well, at least for a woman who decorates her family room with circus and elephant images. Oddly, my next oldest sister collected elephant statues for years, back in the 1970s (there were 7 of us, she is 3rd in the lineup and I’m 6th). I have absolutely no idea why, but she had shelves of them in her room, which was connected to mine via a “Jack and Jill” bathroom. I loved playing with them, as she was away all year at a boarding school and then college. Unfortunately, my relationship with that sister was badly damaged after my father’s death in 2010. But elephants always make me think of her, and our connected lives and rooms during my childhood.
This elephant is a toy made by a French toy company, Djeco, which was started in 1954 and is still in operation (https://www.djeco.com/en/games-toys). I considered reselling it as their toys are fairly expensive, beautifully designed and well made. But I couldn’t part with my treasure – the jaunty bird on the tail, the zany details and fun colors are too dang cute to pass along. I love the idea of a grandchild spotting it, a treasure made just for them amid all the art. I have always felt antiques and treasures – even special quilts! – should be used and enjoyed, creating a visceral connection. Sometimes thing break, but I would rather that than have a sterile collection to be “seen” but not touched. And we can all appreciate a bit of whimsy in our lives.