When I use that term, I intend it to say that I am drawn to objects that are old and have some charm to me. I have the most beautiful crystal inkwell, circa 1800, with a tortoiseshell lid (I don't approve of tortoiseshell, but animal rights was not a big crusade in early 1800s England) and the monogram "L" that is always the first item I put out in a new home. I own a small piece of the Berlin Wall. I love a pair of eyeglasses frames I bought at an estate sale for $1 - they seem to be 1930s, are round, tortoiseshell again and I would look pretty wonderful in them but no modern day lab has been willing to make new glasses with them - they are concerned the frames can't take the necessary temperature. ;( I'm willing to take the heat, but the lab isn't. On my dining room wall, I have decorated with a collection of 1920s-forward kitchen implements with red-painted wooden handles (I like them more when the paint is chipped and worn from a good woman's repeated use of them) . . . I like small, not necessarily "valuable" objects that some other person once loved, needed and/or used. It's that human connection thing again. Someone held this in their hand, wore these on their face, dipped their pen into this . .
So, in the theme of venerable things, the item shown above is about to go up for auction and is expected to fetch some thousands of dollars. It is connected to a celebrity, now dead. Anyone want to take a shot at what it is? By the way, I would not consider this object a venerable thing. Uh-uh. No.
In my ears right now: Blues Traveler, "Run Around"
Why I like it: It speaks of pain and disillusion, but its tempo is upbeat. It's a conundrum. Or the writer/singer puts on a good, brave face.
Something that charmed me today: This morning in my office, everyone happened to land in the same room at the same time for just a moment. We are an amazing flock of seagulls, truly some remarkable characters, who really, really like one another and feel we've been brought together for some purpose that's not yet within our grasp to know. It's warm and beautiful outside. Our small business is soaring out of the recession with a mighty flap of our wings. Things are good right here, right now. And suddenly, every one of us was speaking of past days and addictions. Most of us have overcome most of those addictions. But we spoke very human, very painful, maybe shameful things to one another. I'm not sure how it started, but suddenly we were right there. And everyone was valued, respected, admired by everyone else. I'm the girl here. I teared up at something I heard that was evidence of someone's pain. One of the guys looked me straight in the eye and said, "I can't believe you did that to yourself and I can't believe you found your way out." It's good to be understood and not condemned.