No Pictures Necessary

I think most people have been in at least one home in their lifetime that is covered in pictures. You walk down the hall and there they all are- a chronological timeline with laughably despondent Olan Mills portraits memorializing birth till present (if you don’t know what Olan Mills is, do yourself a favor and google it). My family doesn't take photos. “It ruins the moment to stop and take a picture,” we always say. Although my family doesn't take pictures, I’ve realized my daily routine is more or less an homage to my family. So here are some of my “pictures,” (ironically with pictures) but more like a series of daily moments. This stuff I have pictured is a peek in my memory bank—the heirlooms that replace my pictures, and carry me through the daily grind.

Bassoon reed artwork made by family friend, Lamp made by Grandpa, Grandma's woven wool pillows and dresser, Basket from Great Aunt Irene

Everyday, I pluck clothes from the same dresser my great grandparents used and now my wardrobe has absorbed the same woodsy scent as the dresser. I can’t remember what my great grandparents looked like, but our clothes smell the same.

Chairs from Great Grandparents, Gramma's Table and oriental rug

Growing up, my Gramma and I always swooned over a hunk of bleu cheese at this kitchen table. The chairs were hand painted by her mother. The kitchen table was the heart of her house ( as I believe it is in probably most households). Now, her heart is the center of my house, smack dab in the middle of the first floor. She is my centerpiece.

Jeans (Levi Strauss) and Sage Canvas button down(L.L.Bean) from Dad, Belt from Mom, Pendant Necklace from Grandma, Tank (Forever 21), Birkenstocks (Stockmann)

This is a typical “Krista outfit.” Dad’s jeans and canvas button down are just too perfectly broken in. Forget $80 boyfriend jeans from the Gap. My hand me downs from dad come already frayed, and with grass stains from when he mowed the lawn. This canvas button down was the first thing I grabbed from his suitcase one chilly night while staying at my grandparents, and I haven't given it back to him since. I don’t plan on doing so anytime soon.

My clothes, my furniture, and my car bring my family into my memory. I am always reminded of them. No pictures necessary.

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