The Suitcase That Traveled Before It Was Finished

 A vintage suitcase, a girls' weekend, a cross-country move, and a Highland cow.

Sometimes the best travel stories aren't about people.

Sometimes they're about the things we bring home.

Two years ago, I met one of my best friends halfway between our homes for a much-needed girls' weekend. At the time, I was living in Cloudcroft, New Mexico, and she was living in Kerrville, Texas. We chose Midland as our meeting point and spent the weekend doing what friends do best: talking, laughing, shopping, and making memories.

While wandering through an antique store, I spotted an old vintage suitcase.

I didn't need a suitcase.

I certainly didn't need another project.

But there was something about it.

Maybe it was the worn leather trim. Maybe it was the history hidden behind every scratch and scuff. Whatever the reason, it came home with me.

I immediately knew what I wanted to do with it.

I envisioned a Highland cow surrounded by rich colors and dramatic skies. Before I even started the project, I ordered the decoupage paper and began planning.

And then life happened.

Actually, before life happened, ADHD happened.

For nearly two years, the suitcase sat waiting patiently in my workshop. The decoupage paper had arrived. The suitcase had been primed. The vision was there. But like many creative people, I always seem to have more ideas than time and more projects than I can reasonably finish.

Then life really happened.

We put our house on the market.

We packed up years of memories.

We loaded moving trucks.

And we moved more than 1,000 miles from New Mexico to Louisiana.

In the middle of all that chaos, the suitcase came too.

Every time I walked past it, I remembered the vision I had for it. I just didn't have the time, energy, or creative space to make it happen.

Eventually, life settled down enough for me to return to the things I love creating.

I pulled the suitcase back out.

The Highland cow paper was still waiting.

And finally, so was I.

What followed was one of those projects that reminds me why I love creating in the first place.

There were moments of doubt.

A stubborn crease in the paper.

Questions about color choices.

The usual stage where every project looks terrible before it starts looking good.

But slowly, the vision that had been living in my head for two years began to appear on the suitcase.

Layer by layer, paint blended into paper.

The landscape expanded beyond the original artwork.

The old suitcase disappeared and something entirely new emerged.

By the time it was finished, it felt less like a decorated suitcase and more like a piece of art that happened to be painted on one.

And now comes my favorite part of the story.

After being discovered in Midland, traveling to Cloudcroft, moving to Louisiana, and spending a total of two years waiting in my workshop, the suitcase is headed back to Cloudcroft, New Mexico.

Its final destination is The Highland; a wonderful shop nestled in the Sacramento Mountains.

In a way, it feels like the suitcase is finally going home.

Maybe that's why I love old objects so much.

Every one of them has a story.

Some stories happened before we found them.

Others happen because we did.

This little suitcase has carried both.

Some journeys begin when you pack a suitcase. This one began when I brought one home.