Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Capacious Project - Marita Dachsel
Marita Dachsel's poetry and fiction have been published widely in Canadian literary magazines and is featured in BC's Poetry in Transit for the 2008-2009 season. Her first book of poetry, All Things Said & Done (Caitlin Press, 2007), was shortlisted for the ReLit Awards. After living in Vancouver for twelve years (where she received an MFA in Creative Writing from UBC ) and BC her whole life (minus brief stints in France, New Zealand, and Yukon), she moved to Edmonton last year with her husband, playwright Kevin Kerr, and their two sons.
Dear Red Leather Purse,
I know this may seem strange, hearing from me after all these years. I bet you thought I had forgotten about you. Not at all, old friend. I think of you often, always fondly.
I will never forget our golden days together. Much more than just a fine looking accessory (your red so deep, your leather so soft), you were a perfect accomplice while my (now) husband and I were courting. You were small enough that I never felt weighed down, but large enough to carry what I needed—bus pass, change purse, toothbrush, clean underwear, trial-sized facial cream, Clinque’s Happy-scented skin cream, lipstick, sunglasses, keys.
That time seems so long ago now. Remember me being blonde? In my twenties? Living life in heels?
So much has changed. I’m none of those things anymore, although I’d like to think I could still be that girl, however impractical it might be.
But it’s true. My life is very different now. The courting life is much different from the married one, and now I have two boys under the age of three. You might remember after my eldest son was born, me taking you out with us on walks to the park a couple of times, but even then you and I both knew our time had come. It was awkward, embarrassing for both of us. And yes, it was I, not you, who had changed.
I now have a different hold-all in my life. She’s not sexy like you, but she’s comfortable. No, you couldn’t call her a purse. She’s a bag, but she holds what I need—change purse, keys, notebook, pen, handkerchiefs, toys, board books, snacks, sometimes even spare diapers. See? Could you imagine carrying a bag of dried cranberries? I didn’t think so.
Perhaps it’s being a mother now, but I now have a Matryoshka system of carrying what I need. My change purse fits into my clutch, my clutch fits into my bag and my bag fits into my stroller.
But my dear red leather purse, you are still on my mind. I am looking forward to the day when I will leave the house without mystery stains on my clothes, or smelling faintly like sour milk, my hair coifed, lips painted, and you fitting comfortably under my arm.
That day will come soon enough, perhaps even too soon in a forward-looking retrospect. In the meantime, please keep my pairs of three-inch heels company. I miss them too, but just between the two of us, I doubt there will be the same tender reunion.
Until then and with love,
Read more about the Capacious Project here.
To view all the contributions to the project go here.