Mapping out a place in the world

You don’t have to be a cartographer to appreciate the beauty of

maps; especially older maps. Forget the fact that the countries

change, borders move and cities update their names. An antique map is

like a piece of artwork.

In an effort to update my 13-year-old son’s room, I took down the

old black and white photos and looked for something more classic, a

little fun and not too trendy. Something that would last until he

left the nest. And beyond.

Other factors that played into my decision included tying in the

existing 1950’s aqua tile in his bathroom. It also had to be

something that looked good with black -- his built-in bed and desk

are black with oatmeal-colored bead-board walls.

And of course, something that I liked. Just in case his room gets

a second incarnation and I actually get an office of my own someday.

So, aqua ... how do I deal with that? Black frames ... a given.

What do I like? It depends on my mood (scary). Something classic was

a must.

In an effort to pull all of these obtuse strands together, I went

to eBay (remember the mermaids?) to search for ideas.

I found maps. Old maps. Really old maps.

Maps have great colors. Older maps have beautiful details and

borders. Maps are timeless (if you don’t care about the current

political preferences).

I found 10 maps circa 1930s and 1940s for $9.99. These were old

National Geographic maps, so I knew the quality would be high. I

figured that out of 10 maps, I could find a couple worth framing. And

for 10 dollars, I couldn’t go too wrong.

I won my bid, sent off a check and within a week I was the proud

owner of really old and really cool maps.

How can a map be cool? Let me tell you. The edges are slightly

discolored. The colors are a bit faded and they have “classic”

colors. The details were so ... retro. They were perfect.

I had hoped that I would like one or two maps out of the bunch.

Well. I liked all of them.

One I gave to a friend. Four I fell in love with and immediately

ran to the framers.

I chose a simple frame, black with a gold bead. The maps were

larger than I expected. After they were framed, they looked like

major pieces of art.

The framed maps made quite a statement when I brought them home.

Two found their home in Breck’s bedroom. Two decided to live in his

adjoining bathroom. I took down all of the existing wall decorations,

which included a set of horns that I thought was so appropriate for

an adolescent boy’s room.

Up went the maps. My beautiful, discolored, out-of-date and

ultra-cool maps.

My favorite is a square of the entire planet. It has a weird

perspective. It portrays a three dimensional object on a

one-dimensional plane. The colors and the border are, literally, a

piece of fine art.

I’m not sure the son appreciates the artwork in its full

magnitude. But I do. And since I’m the one who is putting away the

shirts, shorts, various and sundry items into his room on a daily

basis, I love walking in and looking at these pieces of history. He

has the 1932 “world.” He has Europe; the 1945 edition. He has the

United States as it existed in 1943.

When I look at these maps, I feel both the enormity of the

universe and the minuscule level of our evolution.

I love the brown edges. I love the intricate borders. I love

knowing that what has been; what is; and what will be is in constant

transition.

OK, they are pieces of paper. I spent a 10-dollar bill on the lot.

But to me they are priceless. Interesting mementos of where we’ve

been, where we are and where we’re going.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column runs

Sundays.