i love altars. i love honoring the regular, run of the mill moment with a leaf from my (super rare but trying to make it a lifestyle) walk, a collection of heirloom baby spoons that have been beat up by the insinkerator, that gold butterfly i had in my hair the night i met j, an open picture book on the butcher block that reads in caps SIESTA.....
i suppose everything is ready to tell a story or maybe these moments, these altars, create the space for our stories, told & untold. they are pieces of a process, vulnerable moments, human reminders, like post it notes in the form of a painted rock given to me many years ago by a 7 year old boy "you have to forget that the pain is there and move on" he said. he had cancer & that rock is still on the altar. it's been 4 years.
i have this beautiful charm that was made for me from a friend i hurt deeply. after many attempts of apologizing, hoping she could trust me again, i had to forgive myself & let her go. the charm was always on the altar, i was unable to put it in a bag or a jewelry box. a few years ago, we mended our friendship and now, she is a dear friend. these are just a few moments in a life, like the altars, changing with the tide, chapters creating a volume or two.
i feel that the altars share a higher wisdom. they are a place to put the energy of beauty in all it's working forms, reminding me of who i am, reflecting my values, what i hold dear in a space above the sink, on a cake plate, in a wood bowl.
they are still lifes with my textures, my colors, where i come from, where i am & where i am headed. they are a way to track myself, find me on the map, inside the storm, to try & make sense of things.
altars contain the natural chaos of our days. they can inspire a meal, a hug, a kiss & all the the messy beauty we acquire in a day, in a life. they are a place for things to be celebrated, looked at one more time, special.
in this whirlwind tornado watch time of motherhood, marriage, life in all it's shapes and sizes, who i am is not the first, second or tenth thing on my mind. the altars are evidence that i am here. they are my mantras. they are how i create a home. at least, for now. xxxx