Thresholds

Pointless, pointless, pointless.

‘All is vanity’ someone said; huh, if only.

What is the point of being here if I can’t do what I’m supposed to? My whole life’s purpose – thwarted by idiots who think they know what’s attractive.

I’m not supposed to be this way. I’m blind, or rather, have been blinded. Can’t see anything.

Once upon a time – which is the start of all good stories that I am in – once upon a time, I was loved, valued, trusted even. I’m not saying I was perfect – we all have our limitations, but at least I was looked at. Sounds all wrong, doesn’t it? Here I am, on display in a Museum, moaning about not being noticed. I could be in a box or a drawer, but I was chosen as special. It’s all backwards though. And that’s the real problem – I am backwards.

Once people held me, gazed at me, studied themselves through me. And I showed them who they were.

But just look at what they have done to me! I’m facing the wrong way. No one looks at my face anymore. Visitors stare at my backside, and I’m worried this case makes it look bigger than it really is. They say that museum displays add 20 pounds and 15 years. And I know this is my best side, but my purpose was to show you your best side. And now I can’t. I know that have remarkable features, delicate tracery, a carefully etched design; rings and spirals that loop and dance. But that is not me. I am more than what you see.

All those knowledgeable people: curators, archaeologists, designers, photographers; layers and layers of information, interpretation, thought upon thought upon thought. But they totally missed the point. Don’t they get it? Can’t they see? Of course they can’t. I’m Facing The Wrong Way.

Sarah-Jane Harknett, MAA