The cup came as a surprise in the mail, soon after my arrival in Dallas in August, 1986. The gift sent by a friend in the Bay Area who had been a roommate was spontaneous, not occasioned by a birthday or special event. For almost seven years we had shared a big, unheated warehouse space with a sequence of others. But I was touched by the unexpected gesture that connected us across what felt at the time like an insurmountable distance. The cup was expensive, issued by the Metropolitan Museum in a limited edition, a more extravagant utilitarian object than my limited resources would have allowed. I welcomed its feline imagery, that lovely Siamese cat watching a spider, that acknowledged another bond between us.
I love these artifact driven bits of memoire that fill in young adult and midlife details about which I really had no knowledge- all lending greater context to the roots and present hours; the one unnamed but formative tragic incident hangs loosely in that time as this was when I heard from you as if out of the blue connecting past to the then present. ❤️
My Broken Cup
I love these artifact driven bits of memoire that fill in young adult and midlife details about which I really had no knowledge- all lending greater context to the roots and present hours; the one unnamed but formative tragic incident hangs loosely in that time as this was when I heard from you as if out of the blue connecting past to the then present. ❤️