When families get together, sometimes it seems everyone is running in different directions. By the time everyone agrees what to have for lunch, it might be time for an evening meal instead. We dash off to the movies, to the store, to shop … and wave at each other in passing. If Escher had a family reunion, I bet it would look a lot like this.
Tag Archives: one of a kind snowglobe
Here to Stay – waterglobe
Remember the old saying?
If you love something
set it free.
If it comes back,
it’s yours.
If it does not come back,
it was never meant to be.
– Unknown.
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May St. Valentine’s Day be kind to you and yours.
Your Move – the chess game water globe
“I don’t know what game we’re playing, but I’m pretty sure it’s your move.”
It might be a chess board, but then again, the squares march both horizontally and vertically. And the pieces seem a little … off.
Perhaps the biggest clue: When you shake the globe, the pieces stay still, but black and white squares dance wildly in the liquid.
Circular Logic – the snow globe returns
Circular Logic
has made a round trip.
From Denver to Boston and now back to Denver again,
Circular logic was featured in the
“Celebrating Snow Globes”
winter exhibition
at the Sandwich Glass Museum.
Given its name, it’s a fitting journey.
One definition of Circular Logic is that the answer contains no evidence that is distinct from the conclusion. Circular logic cannot prove a conclusion because, if the conclusion is doubted, the premise which leads to it will also be doubted.
After a lot of trial and error, this is certainly true of this piece. The curious invention appears to go round and round, but always begins and ends in the same place it started. The conclusion is the same as the premise.
What does change is the murky liquid, which glistens with coppery metallic dust
when shaken.
The tiny machine measures just under two inches tall and wide,
and continues in its endless, and meaningless, journey.
Always a round trip. Of course.
Crossroads – perspective on the divergent path
…
… Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
~ Robert Frost, “The Road Not Taken”
When I thought of this poem, and the choices we make in life, I often thought of it literally: did I take the road less traveled when I move to a new city, or applied for a job, or learned a new skill? How about when I met new people and tried to understand their point of view? Should I make selections that others likely would not make? Does one see more or experience more on the backroads of life and not the highways? Does one need to make hard decisions to march away from the crowds to be true to one’s self? to reach new levels of understanding?
And then, with age, came a simple wisdom. As light and fresh as the first snowflake brushing against my face. I realized that the road less traveled by is a matter of perception, not location. If you are in a packed room, but your mind is not trapped there … you are on the divergent path as surely as if you were hacking your way through the overgrown jungle, discovering what only you could see and touch firsthand.
The perception of where you are, and where you want to be, is its own unique path. Or as a mentor once told me, “no matter what, the only thing you always have control over is your attitude.” So the same staircase can be a “path less traveled” for one person and less so for another — if what they each think and feel is perceived differently. One staircase may take you away from pain, or toward love, or into the arms of adventure. It can be sure steps toward your goals, or a place to hide from your deepest thoughts. The same steps may represent bravery and risk, or may be the safe choice. It is not the stairway that creates the path less traveled, it is the attitude and perception of the person walking up, or down, or sideways. It is whether you see yourself moving forward, backward, or pausing before the first big step.
And so we have,
“Crossroads”
– a snow globe with a nod to M.C. Escher,
and a knowing smile to Robert Frost.
It’s all a matter of perception.
I survived the apocalypse
And all I have to show for it …
A fragile glass heart, encompassing red foil details, rises above the fray of broken fences, chains, the gentle swirl of soft gold dust and industrial refuse.
Another day.
Camryn Forrest Designs 