Jewelry Jumble

I just had one of those moments.  Those moments when I remember that there’s something “wrong” with me.  Those moments wherein I seem particularly symptomatic, or especially mentally…confused.(?)  It was trivial really, but for some reason it just struck me, and I can’t stop thinking about it now.  I was going through my closet, and I found a box containing a bunch of necklaces and bracelets and some earrings.  According to the evidence and my husband, this jewelry was all made by K (She’s an artist who has worked in many different mediums over the years) but I couldn’t remember making it.  I couldn’t remember the jewelry at all in fact.  That was not me who had done that, who had designed and created those delicate glass-beaded necklaces and colorful gemstone bracelets. When I got to the bottom of the box, I found a whole cluster of necklaces and other pieces of jewelry, all wadded up together in a big mass.  It looked as though it’d been long ago forgotten.  As I carefully separated each piece from the tangled mess, I looked at the necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and anklets with the eyes of a new beholder.  Here I was,  someone who liked jewelry, and I was checking out this random lady’s jewelry that she’d made and collected over the years.  I liked some of it but not all of it.  It’s hard to describe how it felt…. it was like I was a stranger going through my own things. They didn’t feel like MY things.  In fact, they weren’t my things.  They were HER things.  There was one necklace that was familiar to me, but it seemed like I’d only seen pictures of it before or something. It felt like I was touching it for the first time. Strange. Very strange.  I can’t remember the last time I made jewelry…

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