Have you ever been to a collector’s house? A serious collector of spoons, silver, antiques, statues, china, oyster plates, books, lamps, linens, furniture, add to the list…..
An amazing trait in these personalities is that they find beauty, purpose and interest in each and every item in their gallery collection. Lots of items, broken, imperfect fixer uppers, adaptable items – like Fred Sanford – “I gotta have it, keep it, save it, store it, dream of a purpose or need/use for it.
Recently a great revelation came to me, visiting my mother as I was making a cup of tea early in the morning. The house was quiet, yet very much not quiet as I panned the various landscape of each room. I was looking for a sitting spot. The closest chair held about thirty hardcover books. As I assessed how my hips would nestle into the few inches if I managed to shove the stack to one side, not gonna happen. My eyes scale the space to see a second chair, the mound of tablecloths, placemats and dishes piled high and I dare toppling the perfect balance in place for the moment. Moving on – chair after chair, the count is on……. Not that one – seriously a lamp? Not the rocker, notebooks reside. Not that one with baskets of vases, what are those for?
As the count mounts, I go sit on the steps and sip my tea, contemplating the “what have we got here? all the effort into collecting and arranging. The energy spent in finding, placing, cleaning, maintaining this monumental arrangement of eclectic centuries represented.
Finally I ask myself? Ms. Collector, where do you sit? In your car, ahah! So I get it, fix coffee, jump into care and go SHOP. Treasure hunting, must find FINDS. Note to self, buy chairs.