“The past is a candle at great distance: too close to let you quit, too far to comfort you.”
“Memory believes before knowing remembers.”
Thanks to Tina for her challenge “to look backward for a while” with this theme.
Ann-Christine shares a bit of the fascinating history of Swedish temperance and photos of an old distillery in her challenge post.
The passage of time lends a special beauty to objects of human craft. It puts us in our place – we are but a part of the march of evolution and the expansion and collapse of the Universe. What we create and what we are in this form will not last forever. And that’s a powerful reality.
I don’t have to look very far to find “creepy” subjects to photograph. I simply walk downstairs to the living room, dining room and kitchen. That’s where we house our Museum. My partner, Steve, has long been in the estate sale and used book business. We sell a lot of stuff on e-Bay, Amazon, ABE Books and A Libris through our home business, Scholar and Poet Books. But we also keep a lot of stuff. Creepy stuff. Stuff that Steve thinks is somehow “special”. And he props this stuff in any available nook and corner that he can find. Which is why I can easily photograph these:
This week’s challenge is perfect for the photos I took yesterday at Hippie Tom’s Serendipity Farm – an antique/junque pickers’ and gleaners’ mecca in Southeastern Wisconsin. Steve and I were out for a ramble through a wildlife area and stumbled upon the road signs advertizing his sale. The parking area was bustling, TV cameras were rolling, and Hippie Tom was in full swing for Spring. It seems that his farm is only open twice a year for the public to browse and discover treasure in his vast complex of old out-buildings. It’s a jungle of old and semi-new, broken and mostly intact, recyclable and re-purposeable stuff. And we do create a lot of stuff, us humans. It makes no sense to simply throw it on a trash heap, polluting the land with it. Reduce, reuse, recycle, refuse. Broken is not finished. There is purpose and life even during brokenness. If there weren’t, I wouldn’t be able to type with my left pinkie right now. (Broke it in high school. It’s distinctly crooked, but usable. Yup, I play keyboards and sometimes guitar with it…not expertly, but ‘proficiently’.)