What a loaded subject! This week Sara Rosso asks us to Share a picture that means MINE to you! and posts a mouth-watering photograph of her morning cup of Joe. Food definitely springs to mind, especially that morning cuppa, not to mention the life-sustaining afternoon espresso, which I’m going to go out to find in about 15 minutes. Some people posted photos of their loved ones – another sure bet in the “mine” department. I don’t want to repeat those themes. Here are some thoughts:
Mine for a moment, a lovely Fritillary butterfly rests on my fingers (it was tricky to photograph it with the other hand) on a warm June afternoon in the Adirondack Mountains. Those magical times when a perfectly wild creature allows you into its world can be stunning reminders that the world gives and it takes away on a schedule you will never be privy to. I try to be ready and be aware.
An antique creamer once belonged to my maternal grandmother; now it is mine. Inside, a yellowed fragment of paper bears her writing: “This belonged to a tea set of mine when I was a little girl.” Who did she think would find her note? My mother must have seen it, and after she died and the pretty pot came to me, I read that note in “Momar’s” distinctive hand with wonder. Who will call it mine next?
These old silver spoon handles (and other objects) “were removed from the stomach of a woman patient in a mental hospital” in New York. They’re on exhibit at a tiny museum in the basement of a private library in Pawling, NY. The label continues, “The woman appears to be in good condition and is still swallowing metal objects.” It could be that her cravings were due to a lack of some nutritional element, but I doubt it. I wonder, what was her sense of “mine”?
I love to wander and explore. Sometimes I find amazing things, like a stash of broken pottery, at least a hundred years old, washed up onto an industrial shoreline of Staten Island, NY (yes, I jumped the fence). It’s a very long time since anyone called those pieces of crockery “mine”, but for now, I do. I pick flowers when I wander too, and they are mine to admire for a few days. Sometimes I make a map of my wanderings; it’s very much “mine” but I get excited if I can share it with someone who also delights in odd peregrinations (you know who you are!).
But if “mine” is more about what’s unique to me than about what I posses, then the “most mine of all” is probably my artwork.
What are your thoughts – what’s the most mine of all in your world? More ideas can be found at: