My previous house came up for sale yesterday. It happened by chance that I saw it. (Rightmove must be the best way to lose 20 minutes of the day.)
I’m mentioning this because it’s changed…
Its sold 3 times since we sold it and each person has made their mark… impressed their imprint, lived their lives. The house has held their stories, their battles, their joy.
It’s held mine too.
I can see by viewing the succession of photographs that each of the 3 sales have documented - how each family rubs out a little of the one before and makes their own mark. Even though some of my marks are no longer visible on the outside, they are still there. They still trace that invisible journey.
The house was built in 1680 and whilst I have tools like Rightmove to view the ‘next edition’ our predecessors did not. When we sold, I sadly saw that our garden was turned into a large gravel driveway with a shed where my plants used to be. I laid the lawn myself; I planted the plants, grew the tomatoes and nurtured it for 7 years. I now see that the garden and lawn are back - it’s just come full circle and meandered back upon itself.
What an interesting journey; paths are not straight – we either wish ourselves back in the past for nostalgia or forwards into the future as we’re eager to achieve more.
Just like the meandering pathways in my work, and all they represent - each tiny memory, mark, scar takes a long time to emboss.
How about we hold on in the present?
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