Object…

In my home office is a bag of small objects that sometimes come out for writing prompts or altar building if I’m working with a group.  A tiny Yoda.  A green frog that was glued on top of a bottle of Rum.  A tiny gong and mallet.  The glow in the dark angel with wings that flap if you turn the little windup crank on her back and other assorted tchotchke  that have accumulated over the past decade.

I want to be free of the clutter and stuff – yet have a hard to impossible time letting go of this that and the other thing.  I like the idea of a more sparse style – shaker/zen with a touch of Bauhaus.  Yet the objects in the bag sometimes creep out and the next thing I know the mantle has a CalBear bobble head, a red heart paperweight, three votive candle holders, a crystal candy dish filled with costume jewelry and  a 3 inch tall sculpture of a dancing couple next to a tin jar holding dried red peppers.  On the coffee table a collection of rocks, charms and beads fills a serving bowl, too.  

The poet proclaims “We live not by things, but by the meaning of things…” I have a feeling I just live “with things, a whole bunch of things, each with a story that doesn’t transform the world so much as it reminds me of the day when…”  The dot dot dot is the important part of the thing.  The memory and hope of a precious second in this big ol’ crazy world.  I hold onto the treasures for nostalgic days like this one when I object to how quickly time flies.

Writing Prompt:   I keep a precious…