Fragment from an email to Friar Lawrence, August 2009

Re: grey enamel cast iron casserole

"I think of that piece of kitchen ware that I "re-found" as a sort of talisman, as some sort of sacred relic. Sure, I got lucky and stumbled across it but it's something that was once special to me, something that I passed along to her in a way that was significant, and, in the end, was once again found by me because it had to be. I had to find it because it had been there, in her house, in her kitchen, touched and used by her. I know, that part sound very melodramatic, even corny, but there it is.

I can think of alot of reasons why she had to unload it..did it come up in a conversation, as in "what it that? where did it come from?" and in order to avoid that whole fabricated story thing she had to let it go? Maybe she was unloading things from her cupboards that didn't match. Maybe she read that I was moving or heard about it or saw the sign and wanted to unload things that I had given her. Maybe she got grief for it, or maybe God made too big a deal about it. Maybe she couldn't come up with a good recipe to use it with. Any number of reasons why people do things, you know?

Maybe I'll never understand why she unloaded it but for me the thrill, the big "wow" was in finding it again. It was the randomness of the discovery that has made that object so powerful. It could have been dropped off on my doorstep, but it wasn't. It could have been found by somebody else, but instead, I found it, needle in the haystack style. No genie will come from that cooking pot, but I know some really wild imaginings will come from it when it lands again in her lap via the US mail.

Things come and go in our lives. People do, too. So I have to look at that pot as some sort of sign or message or lesson about the vagaries of things, about the temporary nature of life, about the whole "enjoy life now while you can because there's no tomorrow" kind of thing. Hmmm, maybe that's too harsh. Yes, we can set things down, put things away, let stuff go, sometimes for awhile, sometimes for life. And maybe, if it's meant to be, like this cookpot, things or people come back to you in ways and means unexpected. I love mysteries. Maybe there's hope for a grand ending to this story yet. Who's to know?

From what I remember the Japanese are big into animism. All things are embued with a sort of life force. Everything, then, becomes sacred..rocks, trees, temples, sachels of loose items, maybe even cookpots. Maybe that's why I love stuff, have accumulated things all my life. All things have power in their own little way. But more, it's the way we touch on things, or rather, in this case, how things touch on our lives that really matters. It makes for a long trail of sacredness in our lives, or for a very long line of clutter, depending on how you want to look at it. All the same there's power in stuff. Look at the big thrill I'm getting from one little cookpot. Wild, huh?

A friend of mine was saying that my satchel story could be looked at one of two ways..one, as a man obsessed with his past or, two, as man writing about a bag full of things that has a story to tell. That pot may be a bit too big or heavy for my satchel, but maybe it has a story to tell, too. So, to that end, into the story it goes."

Jane, all this leads me to believe we need to go see Julie and Julia. You let me know when and where. I know, I know, impossible, but a man can dream, right? Bye for now..

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