The many mirrors of my childhood home were never chanted to, as far as I have heard, but from a tender age I equated mirrors to magic. Benign mirrors are everywhere in our society, fracturing people a million times, a million ways every single day. Once in a great while, you encounter a mirror that you do not want to look into. There was such a mirror in my past, a long time ago in a very old house. It had another mirror directly across from it on the opposing wall. When you glanced in the one, you saw smoky reflections of almost the same room you were in. The other mirror was just a mirror on it's own. I used to RUN past it, rather than look it after the time I saw something not me in it.
My evil twin brother is just a little younger than I am and was raised completely differently than I, HOWEVER we turned out remarkably alike. His hex mirror practically oozed emotion. It sat in his apartment, in a pile of other pictures and mirrors until one night when it spoke to him and OUT it went to the alley. Of course it did not really form words, it just became very noticeable.
Magic is so tricky. One part of our heritage is the damned side. The fey side. The side cursed by alcoholism and mysticism and sometimes madness. This would be the Priestlays - those who made prophetic utterances and those who clutched bibles babbling - they are all of a piece to me. We just tag the word disturbed on it and gloss over it as it is not particularly valuable in this society to be truly fey. Even without a brain injury I knew this!
In the thrift today, a beautiful ancient mirror sat on an easel with a bloody huge price tag. This glorious piece had come in with a large estate - mostly oversized wood furniture and chintz chairs. A clock and this mirror sat together in the boutique section. The mirror had quite a crowd of people around it admiring it - a crowd that included some of the petty flea market dealers who never pay more than $5 for anything *AND* a few of the high end dealers who own posh Antique Shoppes that cater to higher end purchasers.
This mirror was like a rock-star with it's swirl of devotees. It had a SOLD sign on it. The staff said it was put out and sold in about 2 minutes. The same couple bought both pieces. As I was leaving the couple came in to pick it up. They covered the first the clock in heavy blankets and took it gingerly to their car. When they returned for the mirror, they first preened a bit in front of it and they stood basking in congratulations before covering it too in blankets and carefully exiting the store, out to their Van. As they went around the corner to the parking lot the gentleman swore. The damned thing was heavy! He said it again. "Damn this mirror!"
And just like that -it jumped out of his hand and landed on the pavement. The woman, still holding her end went straight into blame mode. They lifted the blanket to survey the damage. The next stop for that mirror was the dumpster. Strange how the mirror would rather die than go home with that man. I bet the clock stays overwound too!
Of course I am just rambling. But such events happen.
And such people as us tend to be around such events when they do.
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“Maturity is that time when the mirrors in our mind turn to windows and instead of seeing the reflection of ourselves we see others.”
