The Rocking Chair

Time capsules are often prepared with the intent of documenting cultural periods in history.  Objects and/or photographs are placed in sealed containers and opened a fixed number of years later. 

Those of us with a penchant for mild hoarding possess our own versions of time capsules.  I, for one, still have a folder containing a journal that I wrote in my grade nine english class, old high school report cards, anonymous letters from a teenage admirer, and diaries that I kept in early adulthood. Coming across personal mementoes invariably leads to a nostalgia riddled afternoon.

I also have boxes of objects that my children made, and anticipate that they may, in later years, enjoy exploring these little treasure troves of their past.  Then again, they might just chuck everything out in dark green garbage bags all the while exclaiming "why did mom keep all this stuff?"

Discovering artifacts, decoding languages, learning more about cultures that came before doesn't only excite archaeologists.  

I recently came across a historical find in the attic of old French and English newspapers dating from 1942-44.  They are seductively fragile, yellowed, in some cases darkened to near black. Each page must be turned with care as the paper will either immediately disintegrate or tear.  These gems were printed during World War II.  The news, for the most part, is horrendous, not unlike today's. Humanity never learns from its mistakes.

This unintentional time capsule is an artistic gift from the universe.  While the newspapers are probably too dry to work with, (I must admit I'm still at a point where I feel it would be sacrilegious to rip them up...that may change over time), I've been photographing parts to either work with collage or to create digital prints.  

The exploration begins (amidst all those other projects I have in my head!)

"The Rocking Chair" above was done on my iPad.