I love window shopping. Not that I want to buy the things in the windows — I just like the art of display. If windows are in the process of transformation and I get to see the art take shape, so much the better. I took this picture of a Fifth Avenue window (New York City), earlier this month.
Windows can be surprisingly deep. It’s hard sometimes to tell what’s behind and what’s in front, let alone where the picture plane is.
Now I have to admit that I did buy something on this trip — a T-shirt at the Met Museum, so it counts as a souvenir, plus, it was marked down to $12.00. Upon reflection, now that I have a new T-shirt it’s time to get rid of some that I already have. I found 9 to donate and 3 to consign to the rag-bag to use for cleaning.
Why did I keep so many T-shirts? People I love gave them to me; they came from previous trips that I want to remember; they were free; or I wore them out but thought I might “need” them for painting or working in the yard. And do you know what? — I also found a cache of never-worn T-shirts that Bob had. Should I have a give-away on my blog? If you’re interested and have a US mailing address, leave me a comment and let me know how to reach you. They’re mostly size XL. Here’s a selection…
Are T-shirts a reflection on the owner? I’m sure Bob just got Jar-Jar and those smiley-face ones to give me a hard time. Um, *admission* — maybe I gave him the vampire smiley-face.
Here’s another thing I’ve been hoarding lately — articles about hoarding. I know I need to let those go too, but before I do, here’s a quote from Olivia Judson’s “Home, Dismantled”, NY Times, February 16.
I never agreed with the idea that personality is defined by objects; I would rather say that objects are defined by personality. Yet when someone is dead and belongings are all that is left, dispersing those belongings feels like an erasing of that person’s physical presence on the earth.
An old T-shirt waves at you and says “Remember when we went to Hawaii together?” … a dried corsage — where was the dance? who was the date? — reminds you of the girl you were, who thought a corsage worth saving. In other words, objects are keys to remembering what happened and who you were, and their loss can make the memories inaccessible.
There in a nutshell is why I still have trouble getting rid of Bob’s things, as well as my own things. Like those window reflections, reasons can go surprisingly deep, and it’s hard sometimes to tell what’s up front and what’s behind them. Hopefully, with all this effort, I can be like that window display — changing.
Here’s a link to Home, Dismantled by Olivia Judson, Feb 16, 2014 NY Times
More on the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Reflections
And here’s one on dressing Bergdorf’s windows.