Displaced object
lost in glassware
among single saucers
secrets, sighs
abandoned by parents
abandoned by parents
lovers, lies
none to cherish
backlit hair, soft eyes
Would you like a bag,
a receipt for non-belonging?
a receipt for non-belonging?
Thanks, no.
Rain in the parking lot
drops hot with tears
on the frame
Tess Kincaid
June, 2011
on the frame
Tess Kincaid
June, 2011
I like to collect vintage carte de visites of interesting or striking people, so it was no surprise in Goodwill this week when this lovely caught my eye. It felt it so tragic that she was not proudly displayed on a shelf or in an album as someone's treasured possession. Tears burned my eyes, as I tucked her under my arm and headed toward the cash register. She has a home at Willow Manor now.
i have what must be cabinet cards of several family members. what makes me wonder is: why did the folks sitting for these portraits in this era almost always appear stern? at least your lady has a mona lisa smile on her lips.
ReplyDeletebeautiful poem to commemorate a woman lost in time and found at goodwill.
I've been told that the reason these folks were not smiling in the old photos is that they had to remain perfectly still during the photo process, the slow shutter speed, and it was easier to hold a serious face still.
ReplyDeleteTess, that is so sad and she is such a beautiful woman. She has found a good home with you.
ReplyDeleteYes, they blurred easily, so they didn't smile. But the rare photos of them like this or a full smile are precious! This one is so unique because of the backlighting and I am so intrigued by her look! Nice one, this week!
ReplyDeleteThere is something so sad about seeing someone's family photos for sale.
ReplyDeleteOccasionally I will purchase photos of someone else's family...especially if they have names/dates/photographer info on them somewhere. There is a site called DeadFred where you can actually post the photo and any info you may have about it, including where you bought it, so that people working on their family trees may find them. It only takes a minute and you may reconnect someone with their past. It's free.
ReplyDeleteo i have been searchin' for an old painting or portrait not because of what's in it but the frame. a very good friend will surely be delighted if i have his pic in it.
ReplyDeleteit is so sad that after decades portraits no matter how beautiful will lie sitting either in the garage or basements.
lucky her to have found you, or either ways!..
JJRod'z
Simple lines, Simple words. But has a life to tell. Splendid. :)
ReplyDeleteyou and I were on the same page- I instantly thought of a garage sale...
ReplyDeleteMy sister collects old photos...Ive often felt a sense of sadness when looking at them, wondering the story...the life...how they ended up in a flea market, or store...
ReplyDeletewonderful write
I am on the other end of this tale. I have boxes of photos of people who were relatives or friends that I have no idea who they are.
ReplyDeleteShe is wonderful to look at. I did the same for the photo of a baby on a rug I found in a jumble on the ground at a local market.
ReplyDelete..sad paint of words today, i should say... i wonder who she was... it seemed the value of people depreciates when buried in time... what a sad and harsh reality... thanks for keeping her... i have posted an old and almost forgotten sonnet from a defunct blog of mine... i've found it and made revisions of some lines... kinda not feeling so well these past few days co'z of the bad weather here.
ReplyDeleteHave a nice day ahead.
~Kelvin
Tess, this poem is so amazing. I love the photo, just as I love old photos. They truly do inspire. I am also very grateful for this prompt (which now has me in tears). I think that it may actually be the beginning of what I must do. Many, many thanks!!!!!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. I used to get upset when seeing big boxes of discarded photos in antique shops. Forgotten family people. I now have a wall dedicated to those portraits that silently spoke to me. I call it "The Dead People Wall". My adopted family, so to speak.
ReplyDeleteWhenever I see this bin, I call it the "buy a relative" box. I'm not sure, but I think this photo looks a bit like you Tess! Wouldn't it be something, if somewhere, waaay back, you were related! She is so lucky to have been adopted by someone who can, and hopefully will, make up the most extraordinary story of her life and write about it :)
ReplyDeletelovely poem and thoughts. yes, i used to wonder too at discarded photos. now that i am homeless so to speak with no place to hang or save family treasures i understand a bit more. not that one wants to let go,but sometimes life asks that one must. that said i still have many photos, cabinet cards and family memorabilia albums i have put together through the years.
ReplyDeleteSo very lovely. I'm glad you adopted her.
ReplyDeleteIt is beautiful that you rescued her from the Goodwill, to display a long ago moment in the glory of Willow Manor.
ReplyDeleteSuch a classic beauty, with strength and kindness shining through those eyes! She is in a GOOD place for sure at the Manor.
ReplyDeleteI have an image of a new frame for her...a single mat with two openings ... her picture to the left...maybe offset a little ...poem handwritten on parchment to the right.....
ReplyDeleteHey, I would buy it!
Oh lovely. Can anyone be so easily forgotten? But no, you found her eye . . . quite like yours, I think. Bright, receiving and searching like that.
ReplyDeleteI have a collection of postcards, all of women, all monochrome, and all staring straight out of the picture directly at you. Had this been a postcard she would have most definitely made my collection.
ReplyDeleteExcellent, Tess! I have often been picked up photos like that, and felt the same things you depicted here. Lovely. I think she's most fortunate that she'll sit with her backlit hair forever in a good home now where she's appreciated.
ReplyDeleteI find old photographs very sad if one doesn't know who the subject is - it is as thought they have been abandoned.
ReplyDeleteFireLight, I like your framing idea. I might just have to do that.
ReplyDeleteVery cool. Quite a photo, too! We are such a myriad of tiny things...
ReplyDeleteYou do have a knack for finding interesting things. She is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteSuch beautiful words. I once found a photo of a lovely young woman that I thought looked like my grandmother would have, and the back of the card was signed Libby, which is the name she went by. So coincidental! So I have always thought of the photo as being of her, even though I found it in a shop. I framed it and put her in a place of honor in my front room, surrounded by lace and antiqyes and pretties =-)
ReplyDeleteShe has such a modernly attractive face. That image should be used for something important!
ReplyDeleteHmmmm! Well M'lady you're either a Serial Adopter looking to rescue the unloved or a Raven Mocker stealing the last life of the lost and dying to prolong your own.
ReplyDeleteI'm fascinated by these old prints myself but rarely find myself wanting to posses them,perhaps I agree that it's a form of soul stealing. I should shut up! But your poem says more about you than the print does.
Oh! And you're quite right about the slow exposure and facial expressions. I remember reading somewhere that if you payed extra for the powder flash you could get a smiling portrait.
perhaps she was greatly loved, at one time, but those who loved her are gone now, too. i'm glad she has a home at willow manor - she is quite beautiful. i love this line:
ReplyDelete"Would you like a bag,
a receipt for non-belonging?"
Nice poem I really enjoyed it !
ReplyDeleteWhen I looked at your title, and then read your Magpie and then the "footnote" following it, I hit my head and said, "Well, duh!"
ReplyDeleteOf course it was a price, and not just merely a number. (I took it in a completely different direction, but I'm glad I did not read yours before I wrote mine.)
I love the string of s's (single saucers...). It's a lovely, bittersweet poem.
lovely ... xoxo les Gang
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful! She is beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI feel exactly the same way when I thrift. (And I thrift a lot!) ;)
I always offer a quick prayer to the past owner and promise to take care of their things.
Much good energy these things bring.
;)
Good lines Tess, and what astonishing eyes she has!
ReplyDeleteWell, I'm sure she'll be proudly displayed at the Manor. Lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteIt is good to think of her being appreciated once more.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem ~
'abandoned by parents
ReplyDeletelovers, lies' Good poetry but mistaken fact, I suspect. Who could abandon such beauty> You couldn't!
Beautifully written, Tess, and thank you so much for using this lovely lady as a prompt.
ReplyDelete— K
Kay, Alberta, Canada
An Unfittie's Guide to Adventurous Travel
a home at willow manor...i like that...
ReplyDeletei have been wanting to stop by for a visit, my friend
happy to do so today
sending SUMMER love,
kary
xo
Nice Tess!
ReplyDeleteIt reminds me of the writings in the works titled Granddaughters of Yosemite Sane:the stories of Yosemite Sam's saner more musical sister
It says a hell of lot about
ReplyDeletethe human condition that
sometimes, some of us, can
look at, or touch lost, displaced,
or cast off items, and connect
to nameless persons, as if their
aura left some residue, showing
us that we are all connected.
Oh to be a trinket, a hungry cat,
or some other kind of stray who
comes to your door, for they could
find them self adopted.
What a lovely find, Tess! And I'm glad she got a home! My Grandmother hangs about at the top of my staircase all the time - in a frame and not in ghostly form, I'm glad to say!!
ReplyDeleteTess, love the background, and have felt the same as you. You know I enjoy second-hand stores, but once I found a pile of garbage in front of an old house in Albany NY. In this shedding of stuff, were several similar, old photos, and one was of on older woman than yours. I still have that photo and couldn't part with it. Made me wonder why why why no one could find the value in what was most likely a photo of a family member.
ReplyDeleteFrom a family that has an award-winning photographer (my artist aunt in Texas) my tiny little mind just cannot grasp such disconnects...
Oh, yes.... I really love your poem. "...a receipt for non-belonging..." really makes the last line sting.
ReplyDeleteHer gaze is so striking. Wow.
ReplyDeleteWillow!! I'm ripping this subject matter off for a poem of my own. My apologies. I cannot stay my hand from versification when seized by the spirit or in this case, a spirit.
Okay, that was quick. Mine's far more flip and facile than yours. No contest, really. I'm nigh-impossible to beat at flip and facile.
So deeply felt..the photo, what a definite sense of the past!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written, made me very sad ~ not a bad sad, promise.
ReplyDeleteDogimo, your's is flip and facile! Go sign it into Magpie Tales:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/
No flip and facile here. Just appreciation for your sentiments over an old picture.
ReplyDeleteGlad you brought her home -- an intriguing face!
ReplyDeleteDear Tess: Amazing portrait; it does look to me to be about the 20's. Very avante garde photo. Movie star quality! Wonders if she knew Zelda? The adopted foundlings have found a mother at last! Do find them with happy spirits!
ReplyDeleteYou must have a great Goodwill. Everything is so picked over here. It's hard to find a treasure. Your mystery woman looks like she could be one of your relatives.
ReplyDeleteI love that you feel bad for this sort of thing -- that others might call detritus. And your poetry resonates with that sort of humanity. I'm blessed to read it --
ReplyDeleteI'm happy she's found a good home! This lovely piece has a profound depth.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful sentiments Tess. It is a poignant image.
ReplyDeletexoxo
Karena
Art by Karena
nice to know that she has been rescued - a lovely response to your choice
ReplyDeletesomethings demand our attention, don't they?
Lovely words Tess
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
This is a photograph so beautiful, and I think it looks like you. So far, the words haven't come, I may not be able, but I will try again.
ReplyDeleteI had a feeling she might be a relative of yours - but apparently not. I'm glad she's found a home with you.
ReplyDeletegood thing the photograph has found you all right.. with that images so telling a flashback.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth, I love the word detritus. I've scribbled it in my word notebook for later use. Thank you. x
ReplyDeleteYesterday when I looked at this post, I thought, "How unbearably sad." I couldn't bring myself to comment. Then I remembered what the art professor of my one and only art class used to say. He always railed at the class of twenty-year-old students, "You look, but you don't see." So my second and third reactions to the picture were different. I began to feel a bit gullible and manipulated by the perceived pathos of the framed picture. I have in my house a bunch of picture frames waiting for the appropriate pictures and all had pictures of "picture models" when I bought them. Granted, the people in the frames that I bought new were more modern with pictures of ladies, kids, or families. So I thought perhaps the picture frame in your post might have been a never-used frame with a model in the photograph. My next reaction was to consider that I read too many mysteries, so if I had bought the frame, I would have removed the photo to see what was inside--there could be a fabulous story revealed. Anyway, thanks for a provocative post. Lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteThe picture made me sad too since I knew it was probably one of your GDub finds. I'm glad she has a home with you now :)
ReplyDeleteJust beautiful, Tess. Perfect really.
ReplyDeleteTess -- Your photo find reminds me of an incident that I ran into at an outdoor antiques show years ago. A lovely portrait of a woman in a frame lay on a vendor's table. I picked it up to get a closer look and handwritten across the bottom were the words, "we love you mother, we will remember you forever." Odd. Here it sat in this lonely spot on the vendor's table. -- barbara
ReplyDeleteI would love to give every single vintage portrait a home...impossible but it is so sad to see them sitting in shops and flea markets...
ReplyDeleteR.J., speaking of, this photo is still sealed in the original frame, obviously never taken out. I am very tempted to cut into it, to see what might be hidden behind the photo.
ReplyDeleteI think I'd like to spend a fortune in travel costs just for the privilege of rummaging in one of your thrift stores and coming away with a bargain like that. I adore old photographs. Every picture tells a story. Your words and actions are admirable and touching.
ReplyDeleteWow, Tess. So you're the one behind Magpie Tales? I've seen so much work generated by your prompts and somehow never knew where they came from.
ReplyDeleteThis was an exquisite interpretation of the photo. A while back when I was more faithful at making "Artist's Dates" a la "The Artist's Way" I loved to prowl thrift stores. You inspire me to resume that practice.
I am ever-amazed that these lovelies survive and arrive on the shelf of the local Goodwill. I tend to save or burn. No allowing my precious to be pawed by strangers! Your good heart shows in this one, Tess.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2011/06/21/beyond-the-portal/
This is simple yet well-written. It allows the reader to sense the sadness felt and wonder what could happen to their portraits when they are gone. We all hope to be a memory that lives on, but truly how quickly we forget.
ReplyDeleteSad and beautiful...
ReplyDeleteReally good Tess!
Hi! Willow...
ReplyDeleteThe photograph have been so delicate described by you, through your written and spoken words too!
[postscript: She could have easily have been a writer or poet in the 30s]
I'm so sorry, you cried...Thanks, for sharing!
deedee ;-D
Over 15 years of marriage of accompanied my wife on day trips around Florida, hitting yard sales and thrift shops and antique malls tucked into the state's back roads and byways. I just go along for the ride -- usually poking bins for used books and LPs, is all -- and frequently I'm overcome with the sadness of so much relinquished stuff, often let go through the betrayals of love and life, moving on, dying. I get the pathos from the freight and weight of the accumulated cast-offing, but this poem here wells it all in a single object, something so fine found on the pile of all that's left behind, is left with flotsam and jetsam and stuff piled at the last stop before the landfill. Fine poem - Brendan
ReplyDeleteExemplary, sparse, emotive.
ReplyDeleteSad, lovely poem inspired by that serene and lovely face.
ReplyDeleteThank you, everyone, for your lovely comments. You fuel my muse, dear friends. You make posting my poetry so very rewarding. x
ReplyDeleteI have a few rescued old photos hanging in my home. I love it when people visit and ask if they are relatives of mine, and I say no... but I couldn't resist inviting them to live with me anyway. It has occurred to me that there are stories to be written about the imagined lives of these old friends of mine...
ReplyDeleteHow like you - o big-hearted Tess to provide a *home* for this lovely lady... it brought tears to my eyes. This is one of the trillion things I adore about you!
ReplyDeleteLove,
♥ Robin ♥
Oh this is amazing Tess not a misplaced word an entire lifetime caught in a few beautifully crafted lines
ReplyDeleteI thought perhaps she was a relative of yours, she's a beauty!
ReplyDeleteWhat a story behind those eyes. Glad you gave her a home.
Nicely written and describes the picture perfectly.
ReplyDeleteRain drops hot with tears... Mmmmm...
ReplyDeleteLovely poem. I feel the same way when I go into thrift stores and see old photos like this. I once found an old photo album mostly empty. Two pages in the back still had black & white photos from WWII in them. I was shocked someone hadn't gone through each page and checked to remove family pics.
ReplyDeleteAlas this seems to be the story of many an elderly person.. :(
ReplyDeleteWell, for some, at least their youthful faces stays captured on paper in some kind stranger's home...
The last 4 lines of your poem were like a slap on the face - so intense and powerful!!
A very fine read, my friend..
It's so sad that she's just cast away like that. She must have her own stories to tell.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you will give her a good home.
Willow,
ReplyDeleteI think similar thoughts about untended tombstones in cemeteries.
rel
Rel, me, too. Broken and untended tombstones are very sad, indeed.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't do a thing with that prompt. Drew a big blank. I'm glad to see u didn't. Luved it!
ReplyDelete"Would you like a bag,
ReplyDeletea receipt for non-belonging?" Those lines hit with emotion. Beautiful poem.
The poet rescues on so many levels. Glad she found a home. :)
ReplyDeleteLove it!
ReplyDeletea statement
who says thrifters don't care?
ReplyDeletenice magpie
how lucky for this lovely to find a place in your heart and home--beautiful poem-c
ReplyDeleteThe whole poem's excellent. The sudden question about the bag is a wonderful jolt. The tears and rain in the parking lot tie everything together...sadness, nostalgia, and the gritty, unyielding pavement yanking us back to reality.
ReplyDeletelove the "receipt for non-belonging" wonderful...bkm
ReplyDeleteTess, I've been missing for awhile and am so glad to be back. Your take on this one is lovely. There are so many stories to be imagined from these old photos...I'm always amazed how beautiful the people appear in these old photos, without the aid of all our modern-day cosmetics. Do you ever wonder what we would look like if we were photographed without makeup?
ReplyDeletethis sort of gives me mixed emotions.
ReplyDeleteon the one hand , I totally get what you are saying,
on the other,
I totally get what you aren't??
I hold so many photos so very dear.
And I have tossed aside some.
Now I have regret. But at the time. No.
I hope someone with a caring soul such as yourself found them .