My topic today is collections. People collect all kinds of things. Elephants, salt and pepper shakers, cat figurines , mugs, Precious Moments stuff, etc.
At what point does your collection own you instead of the other way around? I was forced to consider this question with the quickly approaching Junk Day. You see, I used to collect oil lamps. I quit doing that in 1993 when I moved from a house with a porch that had these funky narrow shelves... perfect to display the lamps, and useful in lighting up the porch. I have them in all sizes and colors. I even have a "Santa Clause" shaped oil lamp, and if memory serves, one shaped like a log cabin.
The reason I say, "if memory serves" is... they all have been boxed away since 1993. That was a long time ago. Every time I moved, I moved the boxes... never bothering to unpack them, mind you... thinking someday when I own this wonderful home with a big back porch .... or I have this fabulous back yard where I host parties on long tables.... I will certainly have use for all these lamps.
Meanwhile back here in reality, I have half of a walk in closet space eaten by oil lamps.
Funny but as recently has two Christmases ago, a girl I grew up with gave me an oil lamp thinking I still collect them. I just smiled and said thanks.
I am the Oil Lamp Collector. A title that will take an awful long time to shake, but getting rid of 40 oil lamps would be a good start.
1 comment:
Yes, this is a theme in my world, too ... questioning the validity of using stagnant "inanimate objects" to define a living, breathing, evolving human being.
Does it define us, really? Does it give "meaning" to who we are? Or does it shove us into a little box of limitations?
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