Look down at your hands. You’re wearing two rings on the one finger, next to each other. They’re yellow gold, diamond and cognac topaz rings that remind you of your late mother. You wear them most days, and always sleep with them on. Your mother was a stylish – even avant-garde – woman who changed her look with the seasons. These rings were her only visual constant and now they’re your constant.
Look down at your wrists. You wear two cuffs. One has a gold sheen, now scuffed and scratched and worn. It was your promise to yourself you would finish writing your book, and indeed you did. The other cuff is an identical style, in a matte black finish. It was your promise to yourself that you would complete writing five songs and record them. That plan is well underway. These are talismans to keep going and remain committed to your goals.
The bright, blonde wordsmith looks down at her handbag. Attached to it, on a thin leather strap, is a literal ball of fur, a black pom pom. It came from a stall in Portobello Road. When she looks at it, it recommends her of happy days in London. When she touches it, it is so soft on her fingers it’s like stroking her cat, without the inevitable biting that comes with it.
The smart, battling young woman opens a drawer and look at a ring, once worn every day and now taken off forever. It is a ring built on family lies. The ring matches other rings worn by family members and was given for her 18th birthday. It was once a talisman, but when terrible lies and covert manipulations were uncovered, the family changed forever and the ring now rests in its proper place, hidden away.
The theatre actress looks at the glow in the dark arrow by her front door. A prop from her first ever play, it has moved from state to state and home to home, and still glows in the dark on occasion. It reminds her of the smell of the theatre, and how theatre gave her a home away from home, a place for her, at a time when home was a place of slamming doors and yelling.
The woman with ever-changing hair colours, lips built for sin and shapely, intricate tattoos places a wedding ring on her finger. It always makes her smile. The wedding ring was an unexpected gift from a friend, taken from his hand and placed on hers. His words were “I don’t give away anything I find, because when you find something it’s special. I want you to have this because you’re special to me.” She wears it on those days she’s not feeling strong because the memory always makes her smile.
Today you look down at your wrist tattoos. Identical, plain, outlines of diamonds. A reminder to be strong every day. Of course, there is much more to these tattoos on your wrists than just that, but that’s another story for you to tell another day.