green

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions because I believe we can resolve to change at any moment. But in each New Year, I do choose a word to reassure and guide me in the coming months. In 2017 and 2018 my word was beauty. In 2019, it was balance.

Right before Christmas, my 2020 word came to me. It was unseasonably warm and glorious in Iowa, and I was headed out for a walk. As I reached the bottom of Mom’s driveway, I saw a flicker of green in my mind’s eye—a flame-like sparkle that I continue to carry with me. My mind immediately went to Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179) and her concept of the greening of life, or Viriditas. I admit that I have yet to go deep in the writings of this Medieval thinker, but through the years I’ve gleaned a little knowledge of her philosophy of medicine, her music, and her spirituality.

I understand Viriditas as one’s innate power to heal oneself. Although I first “saw” this green energy in my third eye, I believe this fire resides in my heart and that it is expressed through the work I do in the world. Before that moment in the driveway, I’d pondered Viriditas, but until then, I hadn’t felt it. As I move into 2020, I hold Viriditas, waiting to see where it takes me, how it molds me, and what it teaches me.

How do you welcome the New Year?

Inspirations

Between, Within, Beneath

Cicada Song

Dr. Victoria Sweet’s Ted Talk The Efficiency of Inefficiency

During a recent visit to a Central Kentucky flea market, I overheard a mother instructing her children: “These are antiques, so they are three times as expensive. Don’t touch anything.” Her words have been rolling around in my mind for a few days, and I must admit that I find antique and vintage pieces to be very reasonably priced. Why? For most people, “old” things are not desirable.

I am dazzled by my recent haul of “old” stuff. I brought home four vintage Limoges teacups—delicate, floral, and elegant. There are no chips, and the saucers are intact. I paid $9 each. I haven’t tried to date them or research the pattern, but I’m guessing that my teacups are from the 70s or 80s. I am tickled by the idea of sipping my morning tea from the delicate porcelain cups.

When I can get my act together to find a vintage or antique plate rack, maybe I’ll display them with the four hand-painted Limoges plates that I scored in the same booth ($6 each). These floral plates are a delight, each featuring a different flower. When I turned one over and saw that it was signed by “Maude”, that sealed the deal. Knowing the name of the artist who painted my plates makes them all the more special for me.

In another booth, I found a charming soap dish painted with violets, also made in Limoges ($7). I’m guessing that this piece was painted in the 50s or 60s. It somehow feels older than my cups, saucers, and plates, due to its patina. I’ll place it in my guest bathroom with a pretty little soap. I finished my great buying day by scooping up a set of eight embroidered napkins. They must be several decades old. I’ll bring them to the dry cleaner for a good cleaning and starching. They’ll be so beautiful during tea time!

Did I need any more cups, saucers, plates, and linens? Absolutely not. Though had I not been wandering around the flea market with my friend Shelley on that Saturday afternoon, I probably would have been spending money in other ways. All of the items I purchased would be more expensive new, and it’s unrealistic for me to expect to find the beautiful craftsmanship and handwork that are not valued as they once were. Bringing vintage and antique items into my home gives new life to pieces that people have left behind. Placed next to the newer items in my home, they create a unique style for a small price.

Inspirations

More flea market inspo

Hand-painted beauty

Decorating on a small budget, NYT

What’s Your Word?

Buy Vintage, Save Money