I wrote the following. I think it’s long enough to copy here. I also encourage anyone reading this to follow the link to Bjorn’s blog to read the original piece that inspired the following:
I am very sentimental about such things. I have aways wondered why I should be so reluctant to part with a favored old item. It was so from when I was very young. I have learned to overcome it, however, I remember well the old feeling, not so covered up by age and experience. Of sadness, betrayal, loss, loneliness. It was as though the objects themselves had souls, I thought much later on in adulthood.
Now, even much, much later, I have come to think that, closer to the truth is this: That in these objects we invest part of our own soul, and feel the loss as the object is ripped from it–away from us, that part of our soul remaining, yet feeling the effect of the beloved object torn from us–ripped away. So we feel the loss as though the object were an old friend.
I was not sure what to think about this piece at first, because it changes mood swiftly, and more than once–sometimes seeming deadly serious, and sometimes whimsical. I think I wanted–because of these feelings of loss that are natural to me–It to be serious, or whimsical in its entirety. However… one doesn’t always get what one wants, and this, too, is a lesson which should be refreshed from time to time.
I believe I am starting to recognize your unique voice as it resonates within your poetry, such that I might recognize a poem to be yours, or at least reminiscent of one of yours, when encountering it randomly.
And Bjorn Answers:
David, first of all thank you for reading through my entries. I love your feedback.
On the difficulties in parting with an object I think you are 100 percent correct. If it has seen daily use it become a part of you, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a tractor or a teapot.
On the poem I think you are right. I changed my own mood while writing it, at first I almost wanted to do something “comical”, but the sadness of the old machine grew on me just like it would have done if I had grown up with “him”.