Thrift Store Stories
About this project:
I have a group of brave volunteers (including myself*) who have agreed to take on the task of transforming an object that I bring them from excursions to thrift stores and creating...something. Dance/Video/Sound/Visual Art/Music/Writing/Something I haven't thought of but that nonetheless will be awesome. This is a ongoing project, with different participants taking part in different sessions. The most recent session will be found at the top of the page, previous sessions will be found as you scroll down.
*I gave my kids a price limit and made them choose an object for me. Picking my own felt like cheating.
*I gave my kids a price limit and made them choose an object for me. Picking my own felt like cheating.
Thrift Store Stories: Session Two!
Artist: Kim Kapoor - Item: Unfinished Cross Stitch
Unfinished
by Kim Kapoor
When Grandma died, it was sudden It was as if she had went to church and would be back. A saucer and tea cup in the sink; her walking shoes at the back door; a towel on the floor in front of the shower; and a note on the table, reminding her to call Aunt Liz back.
At her chair was this work in progress. Who would take it home and finish what she started?
No one wanted to move in, nor mover her things out. It was the house Mom grew up in... The house we grew up visiting. We all hurt and wanted her back. Our minds would switch from “She is gone” to “she’s at home, watching the birds.” I would laugh at one moment and cry the next.
I wondered how my mom would make it. She stopped eating, sleeping, and smiling. She cried when no one was looking, or so she thought. A piece of her soul died with Grandma.
Years had past and the day came for me to feel that pain. My own mom was gone. I wanted time to stop and everyone to cry, but the neighbors walked their dogs and the cars kept driving by.
I knew it was a matter of time before Dad would pass. His heart was broken and his soul knew. When he joined her three weeks later, and I felt pieces of my soul go too.
I found myself packing their things in the house we grew up in. The house my son loved to visit... the cycle starts over.
I found this memento from Grandma. The one she was working on years ago. It was in a desk upstairs, mixed with old letters, Forgotten about and stowed away like old memories. And still the same, unfinished.
I want to keep it, but will I complete what was started? Or will I put it in a drawer somewhere and forget it just as well? Perhaps I should put it on display.
It reminds me of my childhood, and the woman I loved so much. It also reminds me that death comes unexpected, and breaks our hearts. She will always be with me in all these small things. A part of Grandma is here in this stitch, and a part of her will always be alive.
by Kim Kapoor
When Grandma died, it was sudden It was as if she had went to church and would be back. A saucer and tea cup in the sink; her walking shoes at the back door; a towel on the floor in front of the shower; and a note on the table, reminding her to call Aunt Liz back.
At her chair was this work in progress. Who would take it home and finish what she started?
No one wanted to move in, nor mover her things out. It was the house Mom grew up in... The house we grew up visiting. We all hurt and wanted her back. Our minds would switch from “She is gone” to “she’s at home, watching the birds.” I would laugh at one moment and cry the next.
I wondered how my mom would make it. She stopped eating, sleeping, and smiling. She cried when no one was looking, or so she thought. A piece of her soul died with Grandma.
Years had past and the day came for me to feel that pain. My own mom was gone. I wanted time to stop and everyone to cry, but the neighbors walked their dogs and the cars kept driving by.
I knew it was a matter of time before Dad would pass. His heart was broken and his soul knew. When he joined her three weeks later, and I felt pieces of my soul go too.
I found myself packing their things in the house we grew up in. The house my son loved to visit... the cycle starts over.
I found this memento from Grandma. The one she was working on years ago. It was in a desk upstairs, mixed with old letters, Forgotten about and stowed away like old memories. And still the same, unfinished.
I want to keep it, but will I complete what was started? Or will I put it in a drawer somewhere and forget it just as well? Perhaps I should put it on display.
It reminds me of my childhood, and the woman I loved so much. It also reminds me that death comes unexpected, and breaks our hearts. She will always be with me in all these small things. A part of Grandma is here in this stitch, and a part of her will always be alive.
Artist: Julie Leir-VanSickle Item: Wooden rainbow necklace
Artist: Anna Reed-Spencer Item: Textured Wooden Mug
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More to come!
Thrift Store Stories: Session One
Distribution of Objects:
We all met up at one of our favorite local coffee spots (Shoutout to The College Market!) to distribute the objects. All objects were placed in the bag that's sitting there at the table (wrapped in brown paper bags to add an extra layer of mystery,) and distributed via a random process. (i.e. Everyone reached in to the bag and drew something out.) We decided on a hard deadline of April 15 to have finished creating. (Tax day for us USians should be easy enough to remember.) Some of the projects may begin to roll in during the intervening months.
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Bridget got the kitty.
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Eric got the manatee.
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Glenn got the little glass bottle.
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Julie got the little straw dolly.
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Price got the thermos.
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Scott got the purple gorilla
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Can't wait to see what happens next!
We will be sharing and exhibiting our projects at the Old Town First Friday art walk on May 6 at the Old Town Actors Studio!
THE PROJECTS!
Pictures from our art walk exhibition! Big thank you to Old Town Actors Studio for hosting us! You can see the video inspired by the straw doll by clicking HERE. Link to the Kittsy video coming soon! Curious Kittsy video can be viewed HERE
Eat, Man, Eat
A man ate a mat, a tam, Annette,
A tan manatee, a tee, a Met,
A mean, mean mate, a team, a ten.
A man ate Manet, ate me. Amen.
~Eric Suess
A man ate a mat, a tam, Annette,
A tan manatee, a tee, a Met,
A mean, mean mate, a team, a ten.
A man ate Manet, ate me. Amen.
~Eric Suess
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Our group of art walk participants!
Scott, Glenn, Julie, Bridget, and Eric |
Wanna play?
Look for an invitation on our facebook page to participate in the next session of Thrift Store Stories coming soon!