Tuesday, March 15, 2011
out of the box
Look at this picture, and tell me what you see. A whole world can be seen in such a box. It has lived in the bottom right corner of my closet for several years now, hiding its treasure and biding its time, until a fateful day last week when I released it from the prison-closet and let out all the dust.
I said in my last blog I was going through everything I owned. All of my worldly possessions, examined on the bedroom floor. So here's a start.
Within this box I hold several pieces of my childhood. Some of them cherished, some unwanted, some simply strange. I will make more posts like this later, with other of the 144 pictures I took during my spring break full of cleaning and scavenging.
Here is a doll, well-used and dirty. She has a hat to match her frock, and I found it later. This doll fascinated me as a little girl. I never named her. I don't actually remember playing with her, I only remember starting at her strangely perfect features.
A beloved book, which later led to a beloved movie and a beloved musician. They made a movie out of this, a cartoon called "Really Rosie." All the music was done by Carole King. During the time that we lived in West Seattle I would get the movie from the library every other week, which is probably as often as they would allow it, and I would watch it and sing along. To say I drove my family up the wall would be an understatement, as there was a long period where they forbade me to watch it at all.
Back when the Seattle Mariners still played in the Kingdome, my family would spend many weekends sitting on cold, cement benches watching the game from afar. My two brothers and I each got this shirt, and wore them faithfully. However, being 6 years old (or 7, I can't quite remember) the shirt went down past my knees. I faithfully wore it to bed for many years. Anyone know how much this thing would go for on eBay? (if it would go for anything at all...?)
This box was also home to a stuffed toy dog, an ancient comic puzzle, a flannel nightgown made by my aunt, some ludicrous paper dolls and many beloved childhood books. It would take a lifetime to explain them all.
But I will promise this: I will talk about books. I will show you books and talk about them and by golly if I had them with me I would record myself reading them aloud. And I will show you pictures and read you poems, and you will see me finding myself a million times over.