My journey from Massachusetts to a new start in Pennsylvania began with 8 boxes, a few duffel bags, and a thoroughly wrapped painting I had inherited from my mom. I had downsized considerably prior to this trip, shedding nearly all the trappings of the life I had built in the Commonwealth. Not bitterly, not sadly, just distilling my life down to what was absolutely necessary. At that point in my life I had already moved nearly a dozen times, but this time would be different.
In PA my first apartment was the pragmatic choice. A thoroughly beige two bedroom apartment, with just enough of everything to make me not necessarily happy but enough to make me deeply content. Which matters in ways you only appreciate in those intermittent moments of quiet reflection. When you sit back and check the receipts on where you’ve been, contrasting to the where you’re hoping to go.
I speak frequently about the joy I find in moving, how it allows me to reinvent myself and try new things and explore the different facets of myself in a new setting. Once I had furniture, I remember going to Home Depot, looking for... anything really. I didn’t have a particular thing in mind that I needed really, I just knew I needed something. Home Depot can surprise you sometimes, at the time they would periodically have great deals on lamps, art prints and “unique” wall hangings. (as unique as something can truly be in a big box store right?) But that was where I came across this art print that was...perfect.
A greyscaled image of an old growth forest clearing with sunlight pouring down into a small clearing, almost ghostly in greyscale. The spectral light depicted seemed to push back against the creeping shadows at the periphery. The shadows somehow weren’t ominous, there was no perceived latent hostility. It was large, maybe 36x24, frameless and exactly what I didn’t know that I needed. Plus it was only $19.99! The print may not have realized it then, but it belonged in my bedroom for reasons I STILL can’t clearly articulate, and that’s where it went.
Once I had it hung, I would spend time staring at it, the near continuous percolation of thoughts quieted to an ambient background simmering. In retrospect it was nearly a Ghostbusters 2 moment, but far more pacific, and virtually no pink slime. I do like Motown though. This was well before my art obsession had matured into its current state, and what I now find odd as I write this is that I never matched any of my later pieces to it.
Understand that thematically my collection has threads that tie everything together, however thin or tangential. Across dozens and dozens of pieces, regardless of size and frame, there existed some form of continuity. But this forest scene is a stand alone, and it would occupy a central place in my bedroom for the next ten years... until now.
I couldn’t tell you what changed, other than it just doesn’t feel right anymore. When I look at it these days, sitting in its new place in the attic, leaning against neatly stacked totes and stored packing materials. I regard it with almost a sense of peculiar gratitude. As one would feel towards a trusted but somehow distant companion who might not have held your hand, but still was there to witness. Even... steward you through... something?
Maybe I didn’t need to travel to the places its shadowed branches and contrasted ambiance guided me anymore. Maybe I no longer needed whatever form of comfort or grounding it provided as it held lecture on my bedroom wall. Maybe it was just time to move on.
I willingly concede that to feel any kind of regard or gratitude to a $19.99 art print from Home Depot is unusual. Doesn’t change anything though, it’s good to be grateful. There may come a time when it will find a place on my wall again. Perhaps it may one day be gifted to someone else, to take up its watchful duty in their home instead.
I wonder if it will take them to the same places it took me.
Or if it was ever truly mine in the first place.
-KC
It is indeed a nice print.
Some things find us when we need them and keep us company for a while. I love the thought of it finding its way to someone else when the time is right. A little forest with more work to do. 🌲