With packing in preparation of a move to a new home, comes the realization of just how much stuff one can truly own. It can be sickening to think how much we can accumulate over the years, and just how horrifying the idea of packing and then unpacking an item can be. Hence the great yard sale or donation to a local thrift store.
My studio, the ever disaster zone, one moment it is spotless, the next an explosion of glitter, glue and tiny beads. The thought of having to organize everything for the move has been daunting, opening one box and realizing I need to finish yet another piece. One box made me sit down, with tears in my eyes to contemplate the soul that gave me this unique and odd gift with the hopes that I would create a piece of art.
My father-in-law was in need of open-heart surgery; he and his wife came down off their wintery mountain in the wilds of Alaska to have the surgery at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. He was excited about his new heart and the long life he would lead afterwards. A life reborn. It was October, and I created a piece for my annual Day of the Dead Altar at a local business. The piece would consist of his old heart in a box. It truly turned out wonderful and I emailed him a picture, which he loved. The piece went into the altar, which I have since recreated as a candleholder, which can be seen in my portfolio section of my website (www.sinkitty.com). On Halloween he was released from the hospital and was able to go back to his mountain to regain his life. Sadly on November 2nd (yes, Día de los difuntos) his heart gave out, and he passed away peacefully in his favorite chair next to the hearth.
His passing brought such shock to everyone; we went to Alaska for his memorial on the mountain. My fiancé and I drove snowmobiles around the nearly 150 acres he owned, laughing the whole time. Laughing you ask. Yes, you see he was a fan of the thrift store, and covered many trees on his property with his finds. One tree would be decorated in macramé owls, another covered with funny glasses and mustaches, and another, the clown tree. The man had a keen sense of humor. He was also a pack rat and all holiday and birthday gifts were always something found at a thrift store
A few months prior to his passing I received a box in the mail addressed from my father-in-law. I was rather curious why he would send me a package out of the blue and of course the anticipation of what on earth I was receiving this time. I opened the box, which contained 100 small blonde doll heads. It was the most unique, bizarre and wonderful gift I have received. The note said, “Do something with them. I filled 30 shot glasses with heads and placed them on my mantle as art. Out do me.” The pressure was on. I did create one piece (pictured) for a local gallery Valentine’s Day show. Sadly he never got to see it.
The one box that brought tears to my eyes is the one now containing 99 doll heads. Their painted eyes staring at me and their flaxen hair strewn about inside their plastic bag homes. I sat down on the floor of my studio, with tears in my eyes, yet a smile on my face. I looked up to the row of shelves near the ceiling of my studio to see the heart in its box, sitting next to the fake black crow. The crow was added to the altar, as it was his favorite bird, “talks a lot and is mischievous.” With the rediscovery of the doll heads, I need to come up with new ideas and use them. I will not donate or toss them. I will take a bit from him, and bring a little rat to my pack.
