Raven and Sparrow

Catching fire

Being the lucky recipient of Nancy's lovely hurricane lamps has reminded me of the role of fire in table setting. Candles are so ubiquitous on company tables that we hardly notice them, but the presence of fire is an elemental energy straight from our deepest memory. Gathering around the campfire to share food, stories and warmth, with faces illuminated by the glow and the black night pushed back behind us, is an experience as old as our species. It is an archetype of communal life that we all recognize instinctively. Firelight is comforting and flattering in a way that other light sources cannot achieve...a universal symbol of home. 

It is also sacred. The mystery of fire....its heat and light, its power and fascination, its flickering mutability, its undercurrent of danger.... is essential to our spiritual ceremonies. A fragment of the solar furnace, it represents that source of life and the inevitability of change. It is used to indicate the presence of God among us and to facilitate the transmission of our prayers across time, space and religious boundaries. Lighting a candle is the quickest way to create a sense of intention and occasion, and concentrate diffuse thoughts into reverence.

No wonder we use candles to invoke the power of fire and make our gatherings special.  When we moved away from the conflagration of the campfire to the more formal atmosphere of the table we knew we needed to bring it with us. Real fire. We have fashioned holders, sometimes out of crystal and silver, to display and contain the flame, but even the smallest ember carries an implication of all that we do not control. The more refined we think we are, the more we need it to remind us of our origins and of how we are (still) connected to the earth, the sky, the unseen and each other. 

New old treasures

As the world unfurls across my various screens, I find myself without anything to say. I am struck with horror at the death of George Floyd and further dismayed by the continuing deaths of black people at the hands of the police, even in the face of the massive protests around the world.  The problems of our country seem way too overwhelming for any blah blah commentary from me, at least for now. Unfortunately, chatting about my own projects also seems uninteresting amid the turmoil. I assume this detachment will pass....at least I hope so.

One gleam amidst the gloom....I received a package from Nancy full of old family linens and accessories for the table. The items themselves are very fun and inspiring, but Nancy's greatest gift was her enthusiasm about my table setting. I often wrestle with the validity and importance of my obsession so it just meant the world for her to take the trouble to pass these things to me because she was touched by my efforts. How very generous and kind....Thanks Nancy! What a mood lifter!

The box(es) were full of possibility:

Beautiful crocheted linens, probably made by Nancy's great grandmother, and a footed brass tray from India. 

Appliqued and embroidered hand towels, and a Mason jar full of thread on wood spools. How long has it been since spools were made of wood?

A printed linen tea towel and linen cocktail napkins with quotes and characters from Dickens novels. Dickens? How literary. I like the way the blues go together.

Silver and crystal hurricane lamps...wow.  These are very nice indeed. As I unwrapped the bases I thought the pattern looked familiar. When I compared them to the silver candlesticks my great aunt gave me for a wedding present forty eight years ago it was clear that they were all made by the same company. (The shorter candlestick in the foreground is mine and the taller lamps are from Nancy.)

Besides the obvious similarities in style, the stamp on the bottom is identical. They all come from the M. Fred Hirsch Company of Jersey City NJ, made between 1920 and 1945. I find myself wondering about the tables these pieces have graced in the seventy-five to one hundred years since they were manufactured. Old things impart the weight of time to any arrangement and draw the imagination back along the threads of experience. This grounding in the past reminds everyone at the table of all the people who have been gathering for meals through the years, sharing food human to human. Perhaps this is a good time to be reminded of connection and community. It makes me feel a little more hopeful. Again, Nancy, thank you.