clutterbug

I have become, over the years, a woman of many collections. I collect lots of clutter, which of course are little reminders of passionate interests, places visited and experiences lived, but not lost, because I have a little tangible trigger that sits on a shelf.

I have a very small and very cluttered house. I think, the more the merrier when it comes to collections and things of beauty, so find it exciting to find a new and interesting place to store my lovelies!.

I love to look at my collections, regroup them, sometimes by colour, texture, topic or derived place; move them around the house and look at them again. I have never photographed them before, but realise how much I actually have when I see these pictures.

I have hand-painted plates, poetry books, art books, hats, cherubs, vases, Venetian masks and glass, paintings and sculpture that make reference to the female form or fertility, all manner of jugs, Moroccan metalware, Mexican folk art pieces, rocks (just nice looking little pieces of earth picked up in various places around the world), gemstones, antique glass bottles, candelabra, costume jewellery, and gemstone jewellery. To me they are all things of great beauty and aesthetic appeal, simply, they are my treasures. Every one has a story (except the rocks, for which I can't possibly remember the origin of, but they look great all together) and I can usually recall the story of each one in detail. This is insanely boring for everyone else, but a source of joy and delight for me. I have often thought of writing the story of each collection in a published work.

Buddha's Belly (a poem)

The dust settles

but I see through

and into a familiar comfortable world

a spark of memory

makes it shine

old friends

rubbed like the belly of Buddha

for luck or old times

a longing for better clarity

relived momentarily