COLLECTORS, SMALL MIRACLES, GOOD LIGHTING

Collectors call an empty cabinet, “A blank canvas,” into which they start throwing things like a Jackson Pollock painting. To them it’s one of many small miracles to create.

Every drip is important, every splash significant; every teacup and tray, too.

At least that’s how they explain it when asked “At what age did you begin hoarding objects and finding places to store them?”

An empty cabinet with dramatic lighting adds more to the story.

Who dumps their second string box of knick-knacks any where near such a gorgeous setting.

When it has the look of a Hall of Fame exhibit, even a third string shelf looks good.

Bronzed baby shoes and silver cups with kids names and birthdays engraved? Those come out of any varsity box.

Throw them away? Who knows how that works.

Is it a baby boomer thing, or something common to every generation? You won’t get it until you have kids, and memories of them way back when.

English ceramics for an international flavor?

Get in there.

The more the merrier, but not too much.

Spooky looking shadow dancers and clowns?

Just add the face of a favorite nightmare and have a good scream.

The stage is theirs for the taking.

The messy part about staging collections is choosing what’s in and what’s out. That’s where a strict system works.

My advice: Get rid of it all and the cabinets they might occupy.

It’s bad advice when someone capable of small miracles is around.

They take a load like this and turn it into something it wasn’t.

Be honest, doesn’t the above pic look like a bad table in a weak flea market? If any table looked ready for the arm sweep into a Goodwill box, that’s it.

But I didn’t account for the presence of someone who works small miracles like Rumplestiltskin weaving straw to gold, or whatever his special skill.

If I didn’t see the transformation from a table of crap to a majestic vision in person, I’d wonder who the designer was and why did they show up without a call?

Take another look and notice the order, the spotlights, the glow.

The small miracles take away is how any of us keeps our lives in any kind of order. Collectors have an idea to begin with, but only if they collect out of choice.

I had a recent conversation with an end of the line collector, the family member tasked with holding onto precious sets of china from a bygone era.

It’s a task ignored by the millennials, as it should be.

But no worry, if the kids don’t want to lug around a family legacy of ‘what do I do with this’ maybe the grandkids will.

In the meantime, create those small miracles, show off a ‘best side,’ and say things like, “I know just the place for this in your front room,” when they visit.