One of the
writing exercises I use to get to know my characters and give to my writing
students when we’re working on character development, is an interview
where you ask your character all sorts of nosey questions, but my favorite
question is “what’s in your pocket?” It can also be framed as: what’s in your
backpack, what’s in your purse, what’s in that cigar box under your bed, or
what’s on your windowsill? I find this a very telling investigation. I think
you can guess a lot about a person, a character, yourself, by not only the
practical things carried or stored, but by the less ‘useful’ items chosen to
keep close.
Even as an urban
dweller, my pockets always have pebbles, seashells, seed pods,
feathers—treasures from nature that ground me and remind me who I am, where
I’ve been and some of what I love. From time to time, my purse gets so heavy,
it feels like it’s full of stones—because it is. When the weight becomes
unbearable, I sort through, chose one or two to keep and return the others to
the park, the beach, a garden. The keepers go in a pot on my kitchen windowsill
along with the other items that have earned this distinguished place of honor.
Besides my writing desk, my little kitchen window gets more face time than
nearly any other interior view—it’s where I stand to wash and slice fruits and
vegetables, fill the tea kettle, trim and feed house plants, sip a cool glass
of water after a long walk.
But inside, the
things that line my sill are intimate reminders of parts of me I do not want to
lose: a jar of shells and stones; a vase my sister brought me from Czechoslovakia
decades ago, since cracked, now filled with feathers, my water color brushes
and wish bones (saved up for the day I really need them); a fragment of pottery
I found in the gutted foundation of the house my great grandparents built on
their homestead in Montana in a previous century; sand dollars from the
Washington coast; hand carved spoons (because my husband knows I love spoons);
a scrawny aloe vera plant (for kitchen cuts and burns); a candle in a slipper
(a fairytale token); a small icon of an angel (because everyone needs an angel
watching over them); a rubber stamp of a luna moth (because a real luna moth is
too fragile to keep on a window sill). Somehow these things help define me;
they are symbols, metaphors, talismans. And like the pebbles in my pocket, they
keep me, everyday, from floating away.
So, what I’d
like to know (because I’m nosey and because I’d like to know you better) is: what’s
in your pocket? Or on your windowsill? And why do you have them there?
Take Good Care,
Sharry
Two tiny perfectly round gray pebbles from a beach in Maine
ReplyDeleteTwo white cone shaped shells from a beach in Anguilla
A miniature carved glass perfume bottle that belonged to my grandmother, with the tiniest drop of amber perfume still inside.
I'm not sure why I keep them. Sometimes I think of tucking them in a drawer when I clean the dust and stickiness off the window ledge, but then I always return them to their spots!
A kindred spirit...I've had a small bottle of my grandmother's White Shoulders perfume on my dresser for twenty years.
ReplyDeleteThank you Cathy for sharing this lovely image.
I have a piece of bark that a three-year-old told me was dragon skin. I also have plants that are cheerful and alive, and lots of small tokens from travels I've gone on or treasures my loved ones have brought back for me. Thanks, Sharry!
ReplyDeleteOh! I love the dragon skin bark! I'm going to have to go searching for some!
ReplyDeleteI have some pebbles and piece of a bark with some plants.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing
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ReplyDeleteWhere your window is positioned is absolutely perfect. Great view from the outside! By the way, I admire how you designed your windowsill. I also love to have something in my windowsill, and I have there my angel figurines.
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