Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Childlike Wonder



     I purchased some clay marbles at a flea market last month. I couldn't help myself. It was wonderment at first sight. Years of play (they are from the Civil War era) has left them with such a beautiful patina. The earthen colors drew me in. 
     Holding them in my hands transported my imagination through time at the possibilities of ownership. Black and white images of children crowding around the ground, bent at the waist, some squatting to get a better view, watching, waiting for the shooter to act. Crack! The marbles slam into one another and the children stand and jump, arms in the air, hooting and hollaring. Their neighborhood marble champ has done it again!
     Perhaps they have seen harder times as well. A soldier filling his pockets with the cold, orbital love notes. A gift from his sweetheart as he heads off to war. She knew they were a favorite game of his and she wanted him to have something with him that would make him smile, a good luck trinket he could rub if he were scared or lonely. Perhaps pull out for a game or two if given a chance.
     A grandpa passing his beloved marbles down to his great-grandson proclaiming "I only had a few toys when I was your age. Money was scarce. We made do with our imaginations. But these." He looked longingly into the past, his smile growing youthful with the memory, "These were my treasure. Out of the few toys I had, my marbles were my favorite. I won quite a bit of money playing marbles! I was the town champ!"
     Clay pulled from the earth, formed, glazed, fired. Through the years filled with memory. Worn away from hands of play. Kept in pockets, bags, drawers. Traveling around from owner to owner. Where did they come from? What stories do they have to tell? If you tracked them back to the ground from which they came, what would the earth say? Would it sigh a story of their birth?
     There is something magical about old toys. Made with earthen elements. Wood, clay, metal. Holding amazing energy. All you have to do is hold them, close your eyes, and listen. They are little story tellers.







Friday, February 1, 2013

Look!






     Look at this adorable post office! What a lovely little piece of history. It is currently open for business but is at risk of closure.
     You, my friends, can help save this post office with the simple and affordable act of sending a postcard. How easy is that? Rather than tell you all the details here on my blog, let me guide you to the owner's page.
     Jane Davies is a fellow blogger and wonderful artist. Check out her post HERE. You can read about the post office, how you can help, and how being one of the first 200 to join in would make you the proud recipient of an art postcard. Oh, and make sure to check the bottom of her post for an adorable video of chickens chillin' at the office. Perhaps they should rename Rupert "Quaint City".  
     Love


Thursday, July 28, 2011

One Hundred Years


I was in my basement studio this morning
looking through some antique ephemera I have acquired.
I have a lot of old photographs and post cards.
They fascinate me.
The majority of what I own is around 100 years old.
It's like going on a historical treasure hunt
imagining what life was like a hundred years ago.

I was rifling through the drawers seeking a piece or two
to use in a shadow box assignment from the online course I am taking.
(I highly recommend this course!)
Experimental art e-course.
Button found in right hand column.

Right, right, right.
Back on track.

So I'm rifling through my drawers of antique ephemera
reading the words written so many years ago to someone other than me.
Sort of like time travel spying
or perhaps
futuristic eaves dropping.
Come to think of it, perhaps it is wrong of me to read the words
written by someone so long ago meant for someone other than myself.

But reading I was.
And then I found this...


It's an old fountain from Whitewater, WI.
The writing on the front reads:
Fountian in Esterly School Yard
Whitewater, WI

L.A. Duffin & Co.

On the back is this...


and if I can get you a wee bit closer, it reads like this...


This is what it says (to the best of my reading ability)...

Dear friend. Endless chain of prayer. Oh! God we implore thy blessing on our Soldiers & Sailors. Keep them in the hollow of thy hand.
This was read by me Oct. 31, 1917. It has been all over the world. Copy it and see what happens. It was in the old that days all who wrote it would be free from all care & all who passed it by would meet with a misfortune. Send it to seven people and on the 7th day you will receive great pay. Send it on the same day you receive it. Please don't forget to sign your name and don't break the chain.
From H.I. Trewyn.

Can you believe? Almost 100 years of superstition. An almost 100 year old chain letter!!! And I thought superstitious chain letters were just an e-mail thing! This was back in WWI days.

It was such a fun find I instantly ran to Darling Hubby to share.
Then I rushed to my blog to share with all of you because it's interesting.
And fun.
And I thought you might enjoy it.

Plus, I wasn't about to risk breaking the chain!!!
Didn't you read the line about misfortune???
Hopefully there are at least seven responses
to this post so I know I'm in the clear!

;)

Tee hee! Toodles.


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