They made me smile, too. Funny how dusty old objects that have been living in the back of a cupboard for years can spring to life in a camera’s eye.
These figural liquor bottle stoppers are going to a new home in a few days, along with all sorts of other clever, or pretty, or delicate, or antique bits of someone else’s (sadly long dead) memory banks.
We have been the curator of their collections, but believe the statute of limitations on our responsibility to maintain their treasures has passed.
Buck and I have found a couple of nice gentlemen who are experts in the business of antiques, collectibles, and the accidental “stuff” that someone acquires when somebody dies and leaves it to them. We don’t want to burden the next generations with silver to polish (or not), crystal to wash, and gew-gaws to dust.
I don’t really need to make photos of everything that’s going out the door. The fellows will provide an inventory. But it feels right to preserve the memory, essence and a sense of time and place, and so I began photographing each item before wrapping it in tissue or bubble wrap.
I’m sure all the pictures won’t be evocative like this one, but I’m enjoying the process. Each has a different mood, depending not only on the object itself, but the time of day, angle of sun, or no sun at all. I think the description for this process I’m searching for is contemplative. I like preserving these objects this way. It’s mysterious, but I can see them becoming more than they are, achieving an added dimension, and beginning to reveal their stories.