Remnants

Sehnsucht/ saudade /nostalgia. All words dear and familiar.  

The feeling of longing for.

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Attachments to old dishes and cutlery make this lifetime more familiar to me somehow, and at times it feels as if I’ve held or seen this item before, making the memory of home maybe a little reclaimed.  It is the feeling of continuity of something that was meant to remain beautiful extended again, and as such, through the connection, re-established and given its value back.  

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Why are my props and collected objects are dear to me?  They are my compilation of memories and places or moments of a feeling forgotten that tremors back upon me picking it up.  Antique and vintage stores for clothes and dishes, that’s my soul food, whether at home or on travels. That essence of the wandering and surrendering in an unfamiliar place, with gusts of familiarity, brings back the once upon a time. 

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Just like my father’s poetry and writings are dear to me, or my mother’s sogan dolma, my brother’s smoked trout or salmon, so dear are the props and found gems saturated in childhood memories. Parkdale, Queen West, Sri Lanka, Cuba, Bali, India, Bosnia, Berlin, Mexico, Portugal and other nooks have all been kind to me in offering me pieces of the interrupted past. Be it in a plate, tiny little crooked spoon, a dainty fork or rustic butter knife, it spoke to me and I listened. It’s the deed of picking up that one item that speaks to you that does it in for me. You just know.

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More than just things.

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These are remnants that remain.

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Until they are found again.