We are moving overseas on Thursday. Two and a half more days in Denver, and we are spending them with our generous friends Josh and Lanette at their home. They’ve provided a very comfy bed and a place to rest, as well as some adorable puppies to squeeze.
The past week and a half we’ve gotten rid of basically everything we own, minus those things you’d never get rid of. Or at least I would never get rid of: photographs, journals, my wedding dress, the most special gifts and books. Clothes, furniture (what little we had was still a lot), other books, bicycles, CDs, records, cars, nicknacks…those were all sold, loaned/given to friends, or donated. We tried not to throw too much away, but some things had no other place to go. Letting go is exhilarating, and tough sometimes; we get attached to things, even though the memory of events and people associated with the objects is the real treasure.
Once I fell in love with oil paints, and I made a few paintings of the people I loved. A couple of these paintings made their way back to their subjects. The rest, well… They had to go. The paintings were visual love letters to my friends, and I hope they still know I love them, even if the paintings ended up in the dumpster. I didn’t notice the woman and little boy sitting in the car in the alley as I pitched the canvases over the high dumpster wall and wiped away a stray tear, but I heard a little voice proclaim, “Oh! Mama! Why she throw those away?!” Here a a few, circa 2005-2006.