Suddenly I found myself back in the thieves market in Italy being jostled by the crowds, feeling uncomfortable, my hand clinging to my father's arm while he examined the beautifully crafted leather belts.
Britain. The leather coat factory. My father handing me coats, one after the other. "Do you like this one?" "Wow, you do something for that coat."
A market in Spain. My father's hands picking up classic leather bags and suitcases, enjoying the grain and the quality.
Mexico. My father choosing a hand made leather belt for every male member of the family.
Today, in an old colonial town in Mexico, I wandered alone in yet another market. The rich pungent fragrance of leather hung thick in the air. It took me to other split seconds of reality.
I remembered. My Papa appreciated leather.
To Come Forth Gradually into Being
8 years ago
1 comment:
wow, I can relate. My dad's hobby was crafting leather. Belts and braided bracelets for the town fair every year, handmade sandals for all us kids and mom (soaked and formed to our foot took so much time) and of course I couldn't resist his workshop in the basement. Using the design tools and hammering my own creations into hard leather, sewing my own coin purses with soft leather. Burnishing my name with the hot pen...
Post a Comment