My dad and I march to different drummers. I sort of figured that out early on in my life. And it's been a challenge for me in my heart of hearts.
Recently, in my efforts to do something NEW, I've tried to sort of re-evaluate and re-reference and re-frame my dad. I'm trying to figure him out--and in the process, figure myself out.
For Christmas Dad gave me and each of my siblings three framed photographs. He gave me one last year, too. He's a talented nature photographer--a talent I've always sort of overlooked in an unfair way. But this year I was struck by the beauty of the fall leaves his camera found at the summit of Rock Canyon. The lighting, the color, the angle--all beautiful.
Except. Well, the frame. He framed them in some cheap light oak frames, the pictures spilling out and looking all wrong. Just another reason why my siblings and I always joke about Dad. He just doesn't quite get it.
I recently re-read an amazing book by James Ferrill: The Peacegiver. The stories, the concepts, the ideas all spoke to me in very strong, reverberating ways. I realized some of the changes I need to make and how to make them. Immediately. The book pierced me to my core. I think everyone should read it. Over and over.
Last night I went to Michael's and found the delight of half-price frames and nice double mats. It is amazing what a difference a frame and mat can make on Dad's pictures. Suddenly they are works of art--they are beautiful. They pop out on my wall, and I want to display them with pride. I want to tell people my dad took those pictures. What a difference a NEW frame makes. A NEW me.
P.S. I also picked up these black beauties for $7 and was finally able to frame some old vintage Italian posters. My walls feel loved!