holiday adventures: cupboard love
After watching several episodes of the first series of Grey's Anatomy which my sister and her boyfriend bought for me for Chrissy, I went to bed rather late last night. I should have slid into my jammies, pushed aside the top sheet and crashed into bed. But for some silly reason, the ceiling high piles of junk squashed onto the top shelves of my childhood cupboard called to me. The corner of a photograph poking out from under an old diary. Hints of pink fur, and multi-coloured curtain tassles. Unknown items wrapped in bubble wrap.
Like a house of cards, once I pulled out just one item to have a closer look, over the next few hours, everything on the shelf ended up on my bedroom floor. Old velvet boxes which once contained jewelry. Rugby League football programs. Every Birthday and Xmas card I ever received. A half dozen magazines from when JFK Jr died. Two lone records I saved from a flood in my parents house that turned all their old albums to glue: Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits and Chopin's Polonaises. And even a towel Harry Connick Jr used during a concert that a bouncer later gave to me. Like the bookmarks of my life.
Within a pile of envelopes were a whole slew of letters back and forth to Kenneth Branagh's assistant, asking what he was working on and the like. I had a great giggle with those. Having kept copies of all the letters I sent out, it seemed I was trying to sound sooooo professional - at the time I wanted to be a filmmaker, heck I wanted to be Kenneth Branagh - yet it was quite obvious I was at best a sixteen year old fan. I am ever more thankful his assistant really took the time to answer EVERY letter. And sent me a gorgeous autographed picture which I found framed, by moi, atop the cupboard as well. Tamar Thomas, wherever you now are, my hat goes off to you!
Like a house of cards, once I pulled out just one item to have a closer look, over the next few hours, everything on the shelf ended up on my bedroom floor. Old velvet boxes which once contained jewelry. Rugby League football programs. Every Birthday and Xmas card I ever received. A half dozen magazines from when JFK Jr died. Two lone records I saved from a flood in my parents house that turned all their old albums to glue: Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits and Chopin's Polonaises. And even a towel Harry Connick Jr used during a concert that a bouncer later gave to me. Like the bookmarks of my life.
Within a pile of envelopes were a whole slew of letters back and forth to Kenneth Branagh's assistant, asking what he was working on and the like. I had a great giggle with those. Having kept copies of all the letters I sent out, it seemed I was trying to sound sooooo professional - at the time I wanted to be a filmmaker, heck I wanted to be Kenneth Branagh - yet it was quite obvious I was at best a sixteen year old fan. I am ever more thankful his assistant really took the time to answer EVERY letter. And sent me a gorgeous autographed picture which I found framed, by moi, atop the cupboard as well. Tamar Thomas, wherever you now are, my hat goes off to you!
The cupboard shelves are now far lighter than they were which made my mother happy, and I have poured over a thousand memories which made me happy. It made me realise what a full life I have had thus far. My jobs, my friendships, my goals, my dreams, my achievements, my disappointments, my victories.
Needless to say I slept in late this morning.
Labels: memories
<< Home