Small things. Cherished things. Little decorative elements. These make up a memorable home and, indeed, a memorable life. Not too long ago, people cherished their small and colorful things, their “breakables,” their decorations. It didn’t matter if they were tattered and torn and mended several times over. They were still just as loved and just as prized, perhaps more so.
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| A collection of simple things that bring joy. |
Enter a world full of “apps,” wristwatches that are
really telephones and mini computers, microchips embedded under the skin . .
. I’m not sure how it all happened—and so
quickly!—and I’m not sure why, either. I’m
not sure wondering about it makes much of a difference. But happen, it did. And here we all are in a strange new world
where the latest gadget is highly coveted, money is now openly God (as opposed
to secretly), and young people have nothing tattered and torn that they truly
love. Some have yet to even find
something they love at all.
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| Saucer and sugar bowl, WS George, Peach Blossom, 1948. |
It’s all fine and well, of course; it’s progress, so they
say. The world must keep on moving. We can’t stand still, they say. I have nothing against all the newness. At least, not usually. Most people will go in the direction in which
they are led, and that’s not always a bad thing for most people. The world does not operate according to a
single person’s whims but rather to the whims of the majority of society.
But when we search back in our minds in times of stress
and trouble—those times that hit us all—it’s the little decorations we find
waiting for us in the corners of our memories.
It’s the faded lace and the old teapot and the sweet cookies we think
about. We see them as if in a dream with
sunlight streaming in through a window, gleaming off the clean and simple
surfaces. If we strain our ears we can
still hear the old music playing, and we can still smell our favorite dish
cooking. If we’re honest, we can admit
that it brings tears to our eyes.
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| Saucer and creamer, Artmark, Occupied Japan period. |
It’s the simple things in life that matter. We hear that all the time, don’t we? And I think most of us agree with it, but
once heard, it often leaves our mind as soon as it enters. Many people are so busy today, and that is
not their fault. That’s the way society
seems to be purposely geared. They rush
to work and spend all their energy there, and then they rush home through crazy
traffic. They often eat something that’s
not good for them because they’re exhausted and tired. Then they unwind with something that will
shut out those flashing lights.
We cannot live in the past, but we can live like the past. We can choose what we want—some would call it
cherry picking. We can do that. There are no laws against it. We can take the simple things that bring
peace and joy and security, and bring them into our own homes right now. We can turn off the gadgets for a few hours a
day. We can stop paging endlessly and
uselessly through mind-numbing “social” media.
We can turn off the flashing lights and the loud noises, knowing full
well that we can go back to it all later if we so choose.
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| Cup and saucer, Currier and Ives, Blue by Royal, 1950s. |
Start wherever you are.
That’s always a good place to begin.
Empty the cupboards and throw out or give away everything you don’t
use. Clean everything. Make it sparkle. Make it simple. Make as much open space around your “things”
as possible. Put an old cloth on the
table. Pour a cup of tea and have a hot
biscuit. No noise. No gadgets (hide them for now in a dresser
drawer). No flashing lights.
Then sit and think and remember who you are.
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| American Limoges, Chateau-France, 1940s. |
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| Limoges France, Statue of Liberty trinket box, 1940s. |
