World View

I’ve often wondered why people are so attracted to old globes and maps and atlases. Part of the reason, I’m sure, is their visual appeal, but for me it goes deeper than that. I grew up an “Army brat,” and lived in quite a few places around the world. While it sounds exotic, it left me feeling rootless. I’ve lived in Kansas City for so long I don’t even want to think about it, yet still don’t feel this is home. The fact that my daughters all live great distances from me now certainly adds to that feeling. What I consider my truly formative years–high school through late twenty-something–were spent in Northern California and my father retired there, so I guess if pressed I’d have to call that home. My parents are now both deceased, and my siblings and I are not particularly close, so why California I don’t know. There is no home, per se, to go home to. Perhaps because of this rootlessness, I’ve always longed for travel (to find my cosmic home? my fledgling roots that took hold somewhere else?), but haven’t been fortunate enough to do it often. I went to Spain with my eldest daughter last summer after I found myself unemployed, and it only increased my wanderlust. Given the economic circumstances I find myself in, it’s unlikely I’ll be going anywhere soon, so I look at maps and globes.

Recently, I’ve wanted to do something more with the maps and atlases I find than sell them as is–maybe to interact more with the faraway places depicted there. I made some buntings, but didn’t love the outcome, so that project’s on the back burner until I can find an adhesive that is quick, easy to work with and green(ish). The other day, though, the idea of making pin wheels out of the maps came to me and what you see is the result of that endeavor. I found some rudimentary instructions, and adapted them to the materials and my vision. I really love them, and I’ll be taking them down to River Market later today. If they linger there for too long, I’ll bring them home and enjoy fantasizing about where to go next.

A member of my extended family recently passed away after a difficult battle with cancer. At some point before she died, as she was planning how she wanted to be remembered, she decided to have some of her ashes available in little bags at her funeral. At first this seemed a strange thing to do, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized what she wanted. Everyone who took a bag will release her ashes in all the different places they go–her way of being a part of a world she wanted to see.

Before my time is up, my plan is to see more of the places on those pin wheels. At the end, though, I may just decide to join Sara’s ashes if “the grand tour” doesn’t happen in this lifetime–or maybe even if it does.

Vendor 571

This is my little corner of River Market. Second Floor, one booth in from the northeast corner. Thanks, Carlo, for the pics!