I’ve sat in this chair, in this exact spot, for almost three years now. I’m finding it a little hard to believe – that its been that long – my trip to Nashville. And this stupid table that I found on Craigslist. $75 was a great deal. It’s not easy finding a retro-classic kitchen table for that price – especially considering the mint condition its pictures boasted. Yes – too good to be true. Because for nearly the entirety of it’s place in my home, I’ve experienced multiple clean ups after the one leg to the far right buckles beneath it. Batman always offers his condolences. I think he knows I really like the table – despite it’s deficiencies.
I wonder how many thoughts were birthed from this vantage point – grounded by my worse for ware table? With what objects are these thoughts imprinted? Was I thinking of love while gazing at my microwave? Did I process a disagreement while staring at my vintage sugar and flour containers? Kitchen Sink Revelations – a book I’ll write someday – or maybe just talk about. To what do I associate the memories I’ve been compiling at this ridiculous table? How many light bulbs have sprouted from my skull at this God forsaken table?
I consider the objects that mark seasons of our life. For me – its been an old couch, a rejected glass blown project, a window seal, and now this table. Has the energy of my thoughts passed through them and left a piece of me behind or just my imprint? Either way, I feel a change coming. I think it’s time to let go of this table. I might cry, as with any death. But it begs the birth of something new. And while I do feel a sense of obligation to further nurse her leg – I know there is nothing more I can do – nothing more I can glean from her.
It’s time I make room.