


Home: Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes
Home
...okay so I actually am home right now. But with a cold. Wishing I could see this band live in the city! Or running around the countryside with this band, playing my mandolin that I don't and probably never will play, braiding sunflowers into my hair that is barely long enough for a short stub ponytail, feeling nostalgic about a southern carefree rustic childhood I never had but still somehow feel connected to. Thats the funny thing about nostalgia.
Take antique stores and antiquing. People, myself included, buy old things because they want to feel a connection. To what? It varies. But it is interesting to me how sentiments of nostalgia and yearning for history surface and compel me to fill my room with stacks of old books, jars, photographs of people I never knew, frames from a time I never lived in. Its like pretending I had memories I never had or something. Whatever it is, I love objects from the past, and love that objects carry with them stories and history and context and love, war, peace, growth, tears, joy, relationships...all in a little insignificant object.
I love insignificant objects. Because in the small object can be such a world of unrecognized truth and beauty! Not everyone sees this. Or claims it as important. But its a lens I can't shake, just as I can't shake the treasure hunter's magnetic pull towards rummage and estate sales.