Longwood Gardens & Stevie Wonder

 On the 27th, Nathaniel and I visited Longwood Gardens with Nathaniel's mom and step-dad.  It had been years since I last visited and there was a dreamworld-nostalgia at every turn.


It was a very cold night and the wind was whipping snow up into our faces, so we spent most of the time inside, where the Christmas tour had me convinced that every room was the most beautiful.

It's so important to have beauty in your life.  I was fortunate to be raised by parents who understood this value.  From a young age I was exposed to a variety of art classes and spent a lot of time at home creating sketches and various crafts.


My parents had a modest collection of paintings, charcoal drawings and sculptures around the house.  Even the polished, deep honey-colored floorboards or the hand-made cabinets that my dad worked on were an affirmation that the human soul needs beautiful things.

When I moved out of my parent's home, I lived for a while in a poor neighborhood in West Philadelphia.  My apartment was on top of a nail salon and constantly smelled of polishes and chemicals.  Looking out through the bars on my living-room window I could see the pub across the street where middle-aged men and women danced slowly to the sounds of The Supremes or Stevie Wonder, long into the night.  I used to take the bars off the window when my roommates weren't awake and balance in the old wood frame, just listening to cars go by while Signed, Sealed, Delivered wafted from the open door across the road.


I have carried some things with me from the room I grew up in all the way to the little home I have today with my husband.  Little trinkets, seemingly meaningless.  Things that are beautiful to me.  They help me remember that my soul has been fortunate.  Even above the nail salon at 2 am in West Philly, I still was able to find Stevie Wonder.