the museum curator

paintings hanging on blue museum wall
Photo by mingche lee on Pexels.com

She glides on silent footsteps

Round the rows and rows of shelves

And sliding drawers, lined with tissue thin

And crinkly to touch, with those gloves,

White – like a magician or a mime.

Her skin’s not seen the sunshine in

A week or two, no windows in her basement room

So artifacts are kept from bleaching

In her hostile rays. But curator’s hands

And loving care of yellowed pages,

Delicate as wings of purple butterflies,

Preserve our history for the world to see.

I was talking to our school librarian today and she was telling me that her daughter wants to work in a museum. As soon as she said it, I felt so jealous that this girl had a great job in mind while being so young.

It also made me realise that I’d love to work in a museum too. I love my job, but I am a true introvert and so I pretty much collapse onto my sofa because all of my energy has been zapped by all that human contact.

The idea of wandering around dusty basements and handling pieces of history sounds like a dream. I think that if I could have that job anywhere it would be in The British Library. Imagine being able to touch Jane Austen or Charles Dickens’ manuscripts.

However, knowing me, I’d probably end up spilling my coffee on one of them.

Much Love

Rachel xx

the dream job: costume maker

white dress on mannequin beside white sewing machine
Photo by Wallace Chuck on Pexels.com

The scissors glide through velvet cloth

Embroidered with a golden thred,

The picture of the Oscar actress pinned

Haphazardly, to the pinboard overhead.

She casts her smile, so Hollywood, so far

From this tiny workroom in a boring town.

No glitz of glamour here, but still

I feel the thread that holds us there,

Together as I let the needle run,

Pinning rich material to mannequins,

Until I’ve met the brief, a dress

Fit for queens or pirate’s daughters,

Perhaps a space cadet or fairy dream.

It takes it’s slow deliberate time,

But as it forms I know within my heart

That this is what I was meant to do.

I always wonder how many people out there actually do the job that they dream of. Not the job we tell people we wouldn’t mind doing, but the thing that is ridiculously outlandish; the job that most people would laugh at you for wanting to do.

My one would be a costume designer for the movies. I have always looked at the lavish costumes in movies like Titanic or Pirates of the Caribbean and thought how wonderful it must be to be involved in that.

And yes, there may be other more glamorous departments on a film set, but there is something very calming about cutting through material and sewing the patterns together. And knowing that your work is responsible for making the whole thing look so spectacular, I bet you get quite a high from that.

I’d just need to learn to sew and then I might be within a shot.

Much Love

Rachel xx