Some things take on a life of their own. This is the way of my father’s old green sweater. He didn’t really wear it much at the end of his life, but I had thought it a would be a stylish addition to his wardrobe in his nursing home.
After he passed away, I draped it over the chair in my painting studio, reluctant to let him go. Though it is many sizes too large for me, I snuggle into the old green sweater in winter, feeling his presence once more.
We tend to keep the important things in our lives close at hand. My studio is such a place of comfort. It is crowded with things from past, present and future. Doohickies and thingamaabobs crowd the walls and hang from the ceiling. One great granddaughter who was by nature a quiet and sensitive baby, screamed her lungs out each time I brought her into this room. Bad karma I guess, but for some reason she smiled happily when carried into the sculpting studio. I have no answer for this.
All I can say is that my spirits rise upon entering this overblown and overcrowded haven and I think my Dad would approve.
Pachofa-Unfinished 
I still have my dad’s leather work gloves. I’m sure he went through more than this pair during this life, but these are the ones I have, and I love them. What surprises me is that they fit. Maybe I know where my small hands came from.
I do believe I spotted your boa draped over a chair, too. And of course there’s that inspirational poster about the relative importance of housework. Could you hear me chortle when I spotted that?
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The things we keep as reminders of loved ones are amazing aren’t they? I laughed that you recognized my old boa. I had bought it to wear as a costume and put it in the studio. Once when the local paper came for an interview, I threw it around my neck and there it stayed. I’m sure we both laughed here when you saw the poster. I’m thinking late 1960’s or early 70’s? I had to stick it behind the door because my mother in law was a frequent visitor. She had already recognized my disinterest in the importance of housework.
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So touching I’m lucky as I’ve been invited into your wonderful studio througout the years . Grandpas sweater is so lovely and such a thoughtful thing for a thoughtful daughter to do.
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As far as the “thoughtful daughters” go, he wasn’t as lucky as I am! Thank you first daughter.
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Just so touching and real. Great uplifter of spirits in more ways again.
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Thank you Gerard. We all need little hide-a-ways don’t we?
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I think it essential to have places that reflect one’s persona.
I’m not sure what my frequent moving around of furniture says about me …
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During my growing up period, we moved so often, and took nothing but memories with us.
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I never moved at all until I was sent away from home at 21; and thereafter didn’t settle until 1997 !
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Have nothing in your house that isn’t beautiful or useful, they say. And your father’s sweater is both.
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That is a wonderful saying which I have never been able to follow. Too many things from children and friends made by “happy hands at home!” Fortunately I keep most of those in this studio.
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They all fall into the category of “beautiful”, Kayti, at least that is my rationale.
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This blog post offers the reader many pathways of thought: of the significance of nostalgia, of the life of an artist, of the choices we make…the list of themes could go on for several paragraphs.
My take of this post is this: A lifetime is an accumulation of tiny parts that often, with artistry, work together to form a whole.
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We keep the things we love close at hand. It does take a lifetime to accumulate at all. We sort through everything through the years and discard the things which no longer work. But we keep the friends, the mementos and the memories close at hand.
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I live the photos of your room. I think all such good ones are filled with artifacts from our life, dear to our hearts. Mine has my granddads curling trophy, collected old bones found in the wilderness, my beloved books, of course, my childhood wicker fishing basket, a new fine wool shawl from Christmas, and inspirational photos of my girlfriends, family and personal heroes. Thanks for sharing yours!
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Remember that Virginia Woolfe taught us that we need a room of our own? They’re like living libraries and diaries combined. Everything that doesn’t fit anywhere else, but without which our lives would be empty. I can see your room is filled with treasures.
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Oh so sweet
Sent from my iPhone
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I can sometimes just sit and think when I’m in it. I even ignore the pile of ironing in the chair in the corner. It’s been waiting so long it can wait a bit longer.
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You’re lucky to have your father’s old green sweater. How lovely to be able to put it on and feel him near xx
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You cana see his flag and the top of his head in the photo, so he’s in there someplace!
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I have no clothing artifacts, only a few objects from my long ago, but I do have a green “studio” sweater that one day I must leave on the back of a studio chair. After eight decades of collecting, most things will be thrown out and lost. You are so lucky that the reason the sweater is special is because it is woven with affection. I hope we all strive to get that worked into our life’s yarn.
Nice posting I liked it.
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When I began my ninth decade I thought I would make things easier by sorting through the old photos, notes, half-finished work and simply chucking them in the trash bin myself. I got a lot of flack for that as some kids said they wanted to see it all. Well they brought it all on their own head because it will be a mess, and I’m sure most will go in another bin when that time comes. Oh BTW, don’t throw away any photos you may use later—I keep looking for certain ones which no longer exist.
My grandma was a saver, and I still retain the things which were important to her.
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I am a hoarder too. I can’t bring myself to throw things out and particularly when there are sentimental attachments. Your studio sounds like it is a place of joy, comfort and many memories.
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Memories for sure! Clutter too of course. I hang onto my clothes forever too!
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You are a woman after my own heart. I understand.
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