Dad and I made rock paths around our house. We loaded the wheelbarrow with rocks at the
river and trudged them back home where we dumped them out on the grass and
contemplated the jigsaw puzzle of potential combinations. I sometimes wonder if this early rock
fitting was key to my brain development.
I'm sure it built muscles since we did probably 3' x 200' of stone
paths. That's one heck of a lot of
rocks, and they had to be basalt or granite, and those are extra heavy rocks.
Had I known that all these stupid rock paths would later
require endless hours of weeding, I would've been less enthusiastic about
making the paths in the first place. A
few years after we made them, Dad and I pried all the rocks back out of the
ground and we poured cement under and between them. That helped, but the cement would crack and nothing stops weeds
from growing where you don't want them.
This is all my brother's problem now since he lives at our old
house. He just sprays Round Up.
I still collect rocks.
I walk along the river and seek the best lucky stones, the prettiest
granite, or maybe the nicest shaped addition for my backyard pond. (Time out to notice and rearrange my clam
shell of stones on my computer desk and to wander around the house taking
photos of my various rock piles.)
I like painting rocks too.
It's a freeing subject since nobody expects them to be actual portraits
of specific rocks. It's just my concept
of what a rock looks like, but that statement oversimplifies what goes into
painting a rock. First, I had to study
rocks to know to the core of my being what rocks look like. Second, I have to understand how to paint
mass with appropriate lighting.
Sometimes I paint things on actual rocks. Lately, I've been wrapping stones with wire to make mobiles too.
I'm beginning to think I have an unusual rock
obsession? But if I do, it's
genetic. When my uncle introduced his
future gemologist wife to various family members, we all said the same
thing. "Oh! I collect rocks too!" Then we showed her our rock collections,
which aren't "gems", but are special anyway.
When I was older and started studying New Age kinds of
things, people sang the praises of crystals.
To some, crystals are the answer to anything. I like shiny things, so I picked up some crystals to put in the
window, but it occurred to me that all my lucky stones are quartz crystals too,
they just aren't shiny. But if crystals
are powerful, my hoard of lucky stones will keep me alive forever.
Sometimes, when I've had a really hard day, I lay on the
couch and put a basalt rock on my forehead, or maybe on my heart. It just makes me feel better, or perhaps
just gives me something else to focus my thoughts on instead of my irritations. Rock is solid and connects me to the river,
and the river washes bad things away.
Love the image of you on the couch with a rock on your forehead. It calms me just to envision it. I'm going to try it with one of the many stone I have around the house, to my hubby's dismay...
ReplyDeleteYou can give him a rock for his forehead too?
DeleteI collect rocks too! Always have. I used to paint them a lot. My Mom threw most of them out. Which pained me. We used to pour boiling water in the cracks of our cement. It actually does a pretty good job killing weeds. If you ever have a chance, the Osa Peninsula of Costa Rica is a rock paradise!
ReplyDeleteSomeone told me recently to pour bleach in the cracks too. He swore it was environmentally friendly and just disappates afterwards. I think I like the idea of hot water better.
DeleteYou must have been such a fit kid Linda... that's a lot of rocks you shifted. Don't drop any now on your toes! Xx
ReplyDeleteI think I did drop some on my toes. I remember smashing some fingers too. It was a rough childhood :D
DeleteLooking at that picture of the clam shell full of rocks gave me a tiny startled feeling--how did you get a picture from my house? My kids find shells like that in the creek and bring them home to polish them up, and they are always gathering up rocks from wherever they go.
ReplyDeleteOnce I was feeling a bit sick and tired. I was sitting in the sun by a creek and on impulse I picked up a round, gray, sun-warmed rock that fit neatly in my palm and held it to different parts of my body that seemed like they wanted the touch of a sun-warmed rock. About a half hour or so of that "treatment" left me feeling much better.
Your painted floor is wonderful. Thanks for sharing.
Are you sure we're actually different people? I've done that with a sun-warmed rock too. I'm wishing it was summer now with warm rocks at the river.
DeleteHa ha! We're different, but with some remarkable similarities, I've noticed. Yeah. Summer....
Delete:)
DeleteLove all of your rocks! We hike a lot and often find rock cairns - either to help mark the trail, or just left so we know that some other human was there. Rocks are definitely therapeutic.
ReplyDeleteI sometimes make rock piles. Now I'm wondering if I'm messing up other people's quests with false trails? But I tend to think of them like you said, just showing another human was there. A rock "Hi!" :)
DeleteRocks rock! I like your collection of small rockw, whether in a shell or around a pot. And I agree with you that rocks have special powers. At least they are very attractive. Once a rocker always a rocker...
ReplyDeleteNow I'm singing rocking songs to myself :)
DeleteMay I ask where you found the metal turtle stands? I inherited one through my mother and I'm trying to find more information on it and the stone it used to hold
ReplyDelete