All those cliches about how all the colours - even the ones that initially don't seem to fit, actually do come together someow, often quite beautifully, in the tapestry of our lives . . .
And all the knots and nubbins on the reverse side - unseen to others, and maybe to ourselves . . .
Or maybe we just see the knotted, tangled side of our everydays - reflecting the ups and downs, the seeming contradictions, the disappointments, failures, picadillos - and great big sins . . .
But whatever - the colours eventually fade, as does our strength, our health, maybe our mind and perspective . . .
The above tapestry, hanging now in my sister Muriel's house in Fonthill, came from England with some branch of the family a century or more ago, reflecting evidence of middle-class sacrifice, culture and value, and a day when the oriental theme of such a treasure was much espoused.
And all the knots and nubbins on the reverse side - unseen to others, and maybe to ourselves . . .
Or maybe we just see the knotted, tangled side of our everydays - reflecting the ups and downs, the seeming contradictions, the disappointments, failures, picadillos - and great big sins . . .
But whatever - the colours eventually fade, as does our strength, our health, maybe our mind and perspective . . .
The above tapestry, hanging now in my sister Muriel's house in Fonthill, came from England with some branch of the family a century or more ago, reflecting evidence of middle-class sacrifice, culture and value, and a day when the oriental theme of such a treasure was much espoused.
It hung for years at Uncle Jim and Aunt Mary Potter's house. My Dad would have seen it when visiting their home in Freeman (now Burlington, Ontario) as a boy.
So many people I can't ask now about such tapestries, stories, meanings, memories.
I wish I could . . .
I wish I could . . .
