Butterflies and Wind Chimes

For years I've collected small things, things that are not particularly common. I've made things too, and, in case you have never met me, or set foot in my room let me introduce you to a little part of me that hides mostly away from the eyes of the world. I'm talking here, about my love of wind chimes, mobiles and other objects that hang from the ceiling. When I say that I love them I mean it more than most. Sure, I know people who have a mobile or two in their house, a set of wind chimes in their conservatory perhaps, but I'm talking about more than that; I'm talking about an entire room full of them, just like my bedroom. It will probably seem strange to bring these suspended objects up at this minute, but as I sit here writing this the wind is blowing, and a few of them a chiming.

The thing I love about chimes in particular is that they seem to have a voice all of their own, and it seems (to me at least) that they reflect my mood more than most pieces of music can. I can sit here and listen to music that is supposedly sad or lonely, or happy, or sleepy, or whatever; but when the wind blows through the window and sets one of them going it tops all the music in the world.

More than anything these objects have the purpose of being inspiring. In my tiny haven of space, up here in the attic, away from the streets and the chaos that may or may not be going on downstairs, I have created my own little home full of nick knacks, memories, and things that hang.

A year or so ago I had a mobile that hung above my bed. It was a tiered mobile and had five butterflies of different colours on it. It was truly beautiful and I could and have lain in bed in the morning and watched it slowly spin. It was my favourite, but, being made of mesh, it slowly deteriorated, and last time I sorted out my room I threw it out.

It's amazing just how many of my mobiles have butterflies on them, it's as if they've been following me all this time just to turn up in a nickname from my Mark. I never really thought of myself as a butterfly kind of person before, but now that I look around me and see how many of them I have unconsciously picked out, I am starting to re-evaluate that statement, after all, we never really know what we are until it is brought to our attention. I guess sometimes the people who integrate into your personal bubble have a better idea of who you are than you do.

Anyway, that's it for now. Have fun readers.