Ah the beauty of a photograph... and photoshop. I love pictures. So much I think I am obsessed with them.
I had 330 pictures on my wall.
I now have an enormous heavy blob of blue tack.
Why has this happened?
It wasn’t because I was sick of the pictures.
I found out yesterday that I am moving to a new unit. So the first natural step for me was to take all of my pictures off of my walls. 174 of them were photographs. My bedroom walls were littered with 46 postcards, 17 posters, 14 cards, and 74 miscellaneous pictures I found in magazines and other places. My room used to be a mosaic, an art form. Now it is a baron sad looking room.
It doesn’t feel like my room anymore. Perhaps because my room her in Australia was a defining picture of who I am; a nerd obsessed with pictures. Maybe I was being proud and pompous, showing of my photogenic skills by the display of the photographs of my friends and animals.
Or the other theory is I like to collect stuff and I had no space for it any place else so seeing as they were pictures, the wall seemed a good place at a time.
This mostly likely was all about change.
Change is inevitable. Some love it and welcome it, some hate it and fear it, and some disregard it realising it’s a part of life.
I am somewhere in between. Change, for me is a love hate relationship. Its not something you can control all the time. It happens when you want it too and sometimes when you least expect it.
A friend told me she hates change and when she is old and decrepit she’ll hide in her old house with things that are a hundred years old and yell at change telling it to go away. The only problem with this is change it won’t go away and it will constantly happen.
The biggest change in my life besides going to Australia was something much bigger at the time. My mom moved away to a different province and I stayed behind to study for my last year of college. This to me was huge I had never been on my own before and the thought of it was scary. This is much bigger than a bunch of pictures.
To me pictures are the sole reminders of change. You look back on them years from now and realise how different things were or how much has changed since then.
And now here she is again.
Mrs. Lachlan's Mum is a key character in my story. There for you should read it.
P.S. Brown Dog is still missing.