Paranormal Picker...wha'? The term originated with me. I have been lured to old sentimental objects for as long as I can remember. I feel the imprints of time on objects or places and have experienced vivid pictures of history while digging in the earth. I believe that we all can feel the legends around us. Perhaps because I was blind for the first few months of life, my tactile and hearing sensors remained on high alert. The Picker moniker happened naturally as I made myself familiar with every thrift and antique store within a fifty-mile radius of wherever I called home. On one of these fine adventures of lore, I caught myself looking at things that I would not have given a glance to normally. I started with some odd fifties-era dishes and then added a few other souvenir items from Yosemite. Then from across the store I spotted a hideous avocado green bread box that had a gravitational pull on my psyche. I felt relief when my hands reached it; I did not know why. Did it remind me of my childhood? No. I opened it and found a matching plate to the dishes that were already in my stack. Weird, I thought. How did that happen? I proceeded to the counter, and the clerk, whose name was Bella, told me that I had almost completely reassembled a box of items that she had put on the shelves that morning. I had put many things together that had just come in, and I could have saved her some work had I just been there a little earlier. Accidental, coincidental, or intentional? This all struck me as something I needed to explore. The hideous green bread box now holds garden supplies on my patio, and each of the dishes are under a flowerpot, all awfully close to one another as the spirits suggested...fruition for the Paranormal Picker.
