A mason jar, the color of a robin’s egg, filled with lavender. Another holds prophetic messages on thin strips of paper; fortunes from cookies. A testament to both our eating habits and our belief in prophetic messages.

As a culture we sometimes decide what objects are beautiful and collectible. Objects that used to be commonplace, filled with the abundance of a back garden harvest, are now sought after with fervor, their prices raised and lowered like flags. These things that were once coated in grime and dust in our grandparents basements are now something we argue over instead of disposing of: a pile of old glass is now a potential source of revenue.

Maybe the blue of the jars remind of the perfect shade of blue sky, the clear gaze of our first lovers, a smooth fragment of sea glass. I like these collective memories of ours.


2 thoughts on “

"... all my lovers were there with me, all my past and futures."

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