brownsville, brooklyn 2013
this is a mustard seed necklace. popular during the victorian age, and after. the tiny mustard seed has always been associated with faith. a tiny seed that grows into a plant large enough to feed all the birds in a garden. a lovely story. i always envied my friend holly who wears hers casually on a long chain around her neck. many a flea market expedition was found to be fruitless, when searching for my own, until one day. after a teacher’s workshop at the museum of natural history, being mesmerized by dinosaurs and tales of the museums extensive collections, i stopped at a flea around the corner from the museum. there, on a table covered in loose charms, findings, and broken jewelry pieces, i finally found it. it was sitting there cushioned by yards of chain, just waiting for me. it wasn’t smooth and crystal clear like holly’s, it looked well worn and i found that endearing. as if the person who it had belong to had worn it through many trials and happy times too, i hope.
I began wearing it every day and recounted the story to anyone who was unfortunate enough to ask about it. it gave me a bit of comfort, not from a religious perspective, but from a universal point of view. nature is it’s own religion and the symbolism was what i needed most at that time. i found it comforting to hold and polish, like a worry stone. i was holding on to faith every time i held it in my hand. i had gotten so used to wearing it that i didn’t notice it had fallen off until it was gone.
almost a year ago…the chain since used for other charms, none as comforting.
and then, this past saturday, on the way to a community event, there it was. lying on the backseat of my car, plain as the empty water bottles my now grown kids still left in the car. it was as if it’s walkabout was over, and it had found it’s way home. maybe the absolute clear brightness of that day brought it into the light, maybe i needed a little faith again…i don’t know. on the way into brownsville, a place i’ve gotten very familiar with this past year, i took a picture of it with my phone…through the windshield…while the car was stopped at a light. now, even if it decides it needs to get out and about again, i know it will find it’s way back.
Pattemade 