Dressers and Dresses

Sherry is furnishing her house and buying second hand. After a late night, I'm slow and just capable of sitting in the passenger seat on a journey to pick up a chest of drawers. Sherry chats nine to the dozen and I don't think she notices my murmured responses. We only nearly have one accident. Not Sherry's fault. 

In the afternoon Chris and I drive up the coast to pick up Kahu's dresser. Chris's idea. It should help clear Kahu's floor. Maybe. We stop at Rangiora for Anjie's I Do exhibition opening. She's photocopied old wedding dresses, of differing eras, and created black and white montages. There's a shadowy aspect to the images which emphasises the ephemeral quality of the garments, not to mention the weight of their symbolism. Having never been married I don't judge the institution, but I wonder about its longevity, given it's a social construct. Nevertheless these garments ooze sentimental pride and a colleague is posing in front of her mother's dress. The images are beautiful with the monochrome palette embuing new life and shape into garments used once then stored with precious care. I sip a wine. It goes down easily and stokes my hangover. Delicious finger food. And the room, the Trevor Inch Gallery at the back of the Rangiora Library, is overlooked by a majestic green and pink lead light. Tres elegant. 

Up at Leithfield, Chris and I rummage in Jo and Laurie's garage and load the dresser. I find my hat, the boomerang head gear I've lost a few times, but always get back. It's a slow day... ending with a beer on the couch.

                                                              The dresser and the red car

                                                                       Sherry's red door