People, place or thing

Like the beautiful combination of friends and family who color my world so vibrantly, I love the interesting assortment of items in my home, many of which (home accents as well as friends) I've found in strange places.

I like my house and its eclectic blend of thrift store finds, ebay art and estate sale oddities. I can remember where I found everything I have, and who I was with. The attachment I have to those memories are more important and resonant than the items themselves. I'm not particularly connected to keeping stuff, but I love remembering where I found these things that surround me.

The photo in this posting is what's peppered on my wall and shelf that's by my front door. I got the light switch covers on ebay. The cast iron mailbox was obtained at this funky store downtown called Tallulah's. I have a big metal key with a hook that I found at a Goodwill for a buck. I can, when I remember, put my real keys by the door. I have a problem finding my keys, so this little item give me a conspicuous place to keep them. I remember to put my keys on the hook, sometimes.

The little piece of art was made by a woman I've bought several pieces from, on ebay. I love her mixed media art.

The funky old lady was found in a dumpster by my ex-husband several years ago. She's got a maniacal air, and she's very detailed - she kind of looks like a refugee dried apple person. The pot, in the far right of the photo, is some elephant ear handled vintage yellowware I can't identify, but I like it. All the items sit on a distressed metal shelf screwed into the wall. I found it for just a few bucks at Linda's Boutique, which I referenced a few blogs ago.

And the dog in the basket is my favorite thing.

I found the dog in Boulder. Had to have it. You can lift the dog's "back end" up and add an atmospheric votive candle, just for flair. How many folks can say they have a dog with a lit candle in its ass?

The basket originally was used at a swimming pool; a place to put your stuff while you were romping in the water. I found it at Three Green Boxes - a funky little store on Gaylord. I used the basket for several years to hold stationary and incidentals, until I found the dog.

They belong together. The dog's a whimsical sentry to welcome company, and the dog/basket combo is definitely a conversation piece.

I like how that wall's come together over the years.

But as I mentioned, this wall of incongruity is endearing not completely because of the contents. It's because of where and with whom I found each thing. My attachment is to the moment, not the thing.

That's not to say I invite the criminal element to come on in and take what they can cart away.

It's just that so much of the thrifting process, the finding of cool pieces to accent my home, is the process. The treasure hunt. The journey. The moment. The seeing something beautiful in an unlikely place.

Most of what I really value has little monetary worth. But the things that stay around a while, like the people with whom I'm lovingly surrounded, are in my life because their worth far exceeds explanation, logic or congruity.

That's what makes the people in my life beautiful, too.