Proverbs 2:4-5 was my first calligraphy project good enough to display — I put it in a lead crystal Mikasa frame that became mine after my grandmother died. It’s been on walls (or shelves) in nearly every place I’ve lived since I moved out of my parents’ house at age sixteen.
It was in my freshman dorm room, and later, in the college apartment I shared with friends. The ridiculously heavy frame tore out a chunk of drywall when it fell from one of the few walls in my grad school studio apartment. When I moved into a one-bedroom apartment with my boyfriend, I was careful to hang it from a stud.
When I moved away, I took the scripture, the frame, and most of my belongings with me, but I left the boyfriend.
I’m not sure when I lost track of it. It’s here somewhere — I’m just not sure where — it’s probably in a box of old college stuff in the garage.
I don’t know why I chose those verses to practice my calligraphy— I can’t recall having any particular fondness for them at the time.
But as they hung on my wall year in and year out, I read them often — without thinking much about the chapter from which they came or their surrounding verses. They stood in isolation, surrounded by lead crystal that separated them from whatever biblical context they once held.
When I was younger, I wanted to be like ‘her’ — she who was sought after, valued, and treasure(d).
As I grew older, I decided being like ‘her’ wasn’t enough. I wanted to be ‘her’ — she who was the key to knowledge, the gateway to God.
From where I stand now, I realize I am her — and she is God.