Regarding my post, The end of a chapter..., I give you the inspiration behind the words.
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July 25th, 2011
The morning started a little different for a “day-off” Monday. Rather than filling my day with domestic chores and at-home responsibilities I jumped in my car to take care of a few loose ends at my studio.
As some of you have read, in past posts, I am doing some minor renovating at my studio - more cosmetic than structural - and there was one task that needed attending to.
I needed to dispose of my original facial chair.
I had waffled with the idea of somehow saving it, just in case - what exactly the “just in case” should be I’m not sure.
I had toyed with bringing it home and tucking it in a corner somewhere, but hesitated; I try not to bring work home and this would be a big chunk of work staring at me day and night; it was not an option.
I even tried giving it away...to no avail.
You see...it’s old...and no one wants old.
Twenty seven years ago I started my own business. The location was a bustling hair salon and the room I would be renting had a facial chair, a magnifying lamp and a steamer in it - left behind when the key to the salon had changed hands, months earlier.
I bought the three pieces on credit from the new owner...fifty dollars a month for five months. With nerves frayed but confidence high I forged forward toward the distant shores of success.
Over the years, the magnifying lamp was replace with special glasses; the steamer with heated towels, but the facial chair remained a constant - solid, firm and reliable.
Three years ago a car accident torpedoed that ship of mine and distant shores no longer dotted the horizon. I was adrift.
With compass in hand, charts spread out, and a quick roll of the dice, a new course was charted and my bearings adjusted.
Facials would be the new land of opportunity. However, to give this land the potential to bear fruit I needed to invest in, and upgrade, my studio and equipment.
In March, I purchased a beautiful and highly functional electric facial bed - yes, this one can safely be called a bed; it’s wider and longer than my previous one and much easier on my hands.
This new facial bed is lovely but we have no history - there are no stories woven into the padding; it smells - of new and shiny - of plastic and chrome - of hope and promise - but we have no history.
My chair, my facial chair, that solid, old, reliable facial chair of mine was the harbour for many souls that, over the years, came to shore during their hours of rejuvenation and pampering; it was an extension of my hands - and now it is no longer...my chair.
I cried.
Yes, I cried over saying goodbye to my facial chair. It deserved no less - it was my friend. We had forged a bond, an understanding, and we worked seamlessly together for over a quarter of a century.
The room, in which this facial chair of mine had lived, has now become a room for me to pursue my other passion...writing.
Late in 2004 I started working, sporadically, on an epic novel...it garnered a nod of encouragement, at a writers conference in 2006, from a New York Times bestseller author.
In pursuit of my dream I have said goodbye to a piece of yesterday so that I can write today, in my peaceful writing room, the words you will read tomorrow.
My writing room overlooks a beautiful, lush, treed parcel of land, bisected by a now defunct rail track; I can hear birds chirping and leaves rustling amongst the din of cars and people.
I do not play music, as I did when this space was my facial room; now the rhythmic tapping of fingers on laptop keys is the music that makes me smile.
Goodbye goodbye my cherished friend
You’ve served me well these years
The time has come for you to go
And I must learn to fly
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There you have it...the end of a chapter, and the start of something new!
This is the first piece written in my new writing room - my tribute to change, to wings and to being inspired by objects that surround me.
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Has there been an inanimate object, in your life, that you had a hard time saying goodbye to?
Thank you for following, for commenting, for being out there and in here.
Jenny
