Changes

Crocheted Afghan (just like mom's!) on Etsy

I went to Goodwill yesterday both to hunt for treasures and to kill some time before a meeting I had to attend, and I was thinking about how, as I wander through that and other thrift stores, I feel pulled in two directions: one is full of nostalgia and looking for signs of comfort (such signs being toys I played with as a child, or seeing colors or designs that remind me of my grandmother's kitchen), and the other is seeing the potential for change, the opportunity to change my identity as others perceive it through objects. And the latter may be how many items ended up in the store in the first place. Perhaps a child grew up and his or her room became a study or a sewing room, and the crewel artwork in the bedroom was given away.

Oval Portrait of Little Boy on Artfire

None of this is profound. My youngest turned 10 last week, so I guess I'm feeling a bit nostalgic anyway. I've also been feeling pretty restless, torn between thinking about my kids as babies and wondering how to find space in my life for who I am becoming as I move forward. I see tremendous possibilities as I gaze around my house and office, and at the same time I feel nostalgia as I look at the kids' pictures still hanging on the walls and fridge.

I'm feeling a bit between worlds, I guess--the worlds that I saw in Goodwill yesterday as I watched the teens finding fashionable tees to wear and the new mothers finding inexpensive baby bedding and the guy at the CD rack exclaiming over music that he hadn't heard in ages. I suppose we're all traveling between times. Vintage is all relative.