A few of the astrologers I follow say this year is a time for morphing into something new. Dictionary.com defines morphing as “undergo or cause to undergo a gradual process of transformation”. I am sorry, this sounds too contrived and forced on all of us. Perhaps it is happening, but for right now I like to think of a transformation that needs a little adjusting.
Part of my transformation has been to eliminate all things no longer serve a purpose. Every day, I take an area of my studio and my house and edit it heavily. Today I was into photos, the types we used to print on paper, that filled up either boxes or albums. I have mine in albums very neatly categorized and dated. Many will be copied and put on my computer, and many will be burned this winter in my fireplace.
I found a peculiar ticket, a Boarding Pass to board the famous Titanic. This was a nice story I lived in first person.
One day the exhibition of the Titanic came to San Francisco, I decided to go with a friend.
As soon as we boarded the ship, we were given a pass each with the name of a real passenger on the back and a short story of why that person was on the ship.
The back of my boarding pass said it was for Mrs. Elisabeth Hocking (Eliza Neads) age 54 from Cornwall, England. She sailed from Southampton on April 10, 1912, to reach her son George who emigrated to Akron, Ohio, where he found a nice job and wanted his family to emigrate there as well. After the death of her husband, Eliza decided to make a change in her life, and at the time she was traveling with a few members of her family. She was in the second class of the Titanic.
Everything was recreated as if we were boarding the famous ship.
We saw the real luggage people took on board, the real dresses of survivors, the dining room was recreated to perfection, the grand stair, the rooms in various classes, the sounds, voices, and music on board of the Titanic were spread all over the exhibition and felt real.
The atmosphere was pleasant, especially hearing over speakers, people eating at dining tables and some of their conversations acted out by actors. It was pleasant to hear the rustle of beautiful women’s dresses walking or dancing at the tune of Waltzer.
We read many stories published at that time about the “unsinkable ship”. Apparently, the builders saved money by using less expansive steel.
The narrator told stories of some of the passengers, what they did in real life, and how they spent their last hours, some of them bickered the whole time, some fell in love.
I admired the décor of the salons, the woods, the stained glasses, the chandeliers, the silver tableware, and the entire style of the turning of the century. Well decorated and high style surrounded people in that era.
We even had a taste of a few foods prepared for the voyage, but something in the air was not quite right, we went to visit a tragedy… It was hard to enjoy it without thinking of the fate that awaited those passengers.
I had the boarding pass of Eliza, she survived and made it to Ohio.
The person named on my friend’s boarding pass did not make it.
Exiting the exhibition I had an odd thought. I came to America as an immigrant too, and even in a fantasy exhibition like this one, I was given a ticket for a survival female. To these days I am thinking of that. Ciao, Valentina
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Copyright © 2020 Valentina Cirasola, All Rights Reserved
Valentina Cirasola is an interior-fashion designer, author of 5 published books, a storyteller, and a blogger of many years. She has conceived a few new books of various subjects to which she is working simultaneously. Her books are non-fictional practical ideas to apply in the home, fashion, cooking, and travel. She never gives up trying new things and doesn’t fear failure. Some years ago, Valentina became a TV producer/host producing shows under her label: Valentina Design Universe. The goal of her shows is to entertain, inspire, and inform, while she is living her passion. Her books are on Amazon and Barnes&Noble