Memories, reminiscing, and nostalgia.

fr-mvia Keep Calm Gallery

Today marks three years spent loving and laughing with Scott, and I haven’t managed to do anything productive all day. All I can really do is laze on the couch while he’s at school, ignoring my own schoolwork in the name of reflecting on the times we’ve shared, the adventures we’ve taken, and the midnight laughfests that seem to happen nightly. I’m a happy girl today. Very grateful for the wonderful person whose company I get to share. We have a fun dinner date planned for tonight, but in the meantime, I’m working on a pair of anniversary socks for him. We like to keep things simple.

The print above was purchased about a week ago, but I haven’t yet received it in the mail. As soon as I came across Amy Ross’ work a couple of months ago, I was immediately smitten: she’s a local artist who went to the Harvard Divinity School, and chose to pursue this concept of collage art that was inspired by the Harvard Museum of Natural History–one of my favorite places. Amy’s anthropomorphic–and, in this case, fungi-pomorphic–forms are so enchanting, and remind me of spending days as a child sprawled out on the carpet with a big book about faeries that I inherited from my great-grandfather. I never knew him, but he left my father this huge assortment of books about gnomes and elves and a collection of fairy tales and fables, and the collective of all of those books struck such a sense of imagination in me. I wholeheartedly believed that if I could go deep enough into the forest, on my own, I could find a magic fairy ring. Of course, I never got the chance to try.

But the print is even more dear to me because of an even closer familial reminder: my brother took it upon himself, years ago, to begin affectionately calling my mother a mushroom. I really don’t know where it stemmed from, but it just kind of stuck. And so the moment that I saw these little mushroom people, I immediately thought of my mom, and knew that if I had it placed prominently above my desk, it would not only serve as a reminder of the intense imagination I once fostered (and an inspiration to allow myself to find it, again), but as a sort of homage to my family and their relevance in my life.

For this reason, I’m also actively seeking out prints portraying foxes. Because Scott is my little Arctic fox.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s