Portrait of a Lady; probably Mary Parsons, later Mrs Draper Lely, Peter (painter) c 1665. It’s unfortunate that the Fitzwilliam Museum does not show their paintings on line with frames.
Lion, FIGURE (one of a pair), 18th century (ca. 1732–35) Manufacured by Meissen, Factory; Johann Gottlieb Kirchner. What’s interesting about these are their size. And of course the expression.
Commode, Jean-Pierre Latz, c.1745. I love the pattern melding of different materials.
What is the meaning of losing things?
My friend, the fabulous Isabella La Fitte–see the new sidebar listing– is a brilliant mother; to say the least, who I am looking forward to seeing next week. Hopefully, we will be able to meet up at one of our two favorite haunts. The Russian or The Belgian. If there are pictures from the Internet with this post, you will know I have not yet found my camera cable to download the fantastic pictures I have been taking. My camera itself I often lose. Just this week, I thought I left it at a friend’s in LA. Then I thought it must be at my brothers. It was eventually found in the glove compartment of my car–the cable has not yet turned up. I may have to ask Saint Anthony to assist me.
Sometimes when we lose an object we may stop and ask, What does this mean–where are my car keys? What am I forgetting? And, sometimes the pause, will cause the keys to present. Sometimes it takes more focus–I hang my keys on my turquoise chintz bulletin board but sometimes they do not end up there. So then, I get to ask to ask my favorite question, “What does it all mean?” A person can certainly be be guided by signs all day long if you hold that inclination. Just read Jane Bowles‘ biography, A Little Original Sin.
I have also lost the sizing adhesive for a project I am working on–two little brown bottles with white caps. I can clearly see myself taking them out of my black leather bag: (Comme de Garcon like this one but not stamped; just plain and black; I love it). And I see them sitting on a flat surface, but they have not yet turned up. I purchased the sizing on Wednesday. The guy who rang me up made a comment: Gold leaf adhesive.
Not a, Hey how’s it going? Or a, What’s up? Or a Did you find everything? etc. But, Gold leaf adhesive. I thought, “Is he making a subtle commentary on the difference between the fine arts and the decorative arts?”
On the one hand I do value the two separately. But I’m not sure if I place a higher value on one over the other. Value is controlled by many things. Just as the design world, decorative arts, and the art market is controlled by many variables. (But I will not attempt to comment further about this. However I imagine the art world akin to what happened in the 1700’s i.e. Tulip mania –I ascribe to the idea; rather than any detailed analysis).
Back to losing things. There are the psychological implications of things one loses and never gets back. Perhaps this is why the idea of losing anything can be trying–there is that moment of panic where one thinks, “I will never have this again!” And then if it is found a quick moment of relief.
Losing things. There is the event of losing a favorite object–or not being compensated appropriately for a favorite object, which I think is part of the huge interest in The Antiques Road Show. What if my soup tureen is worth alot of money and someone rips me off?
I always remember Bruce Chatwin’s book On The Black Hill. Adult twin brothers live in their family home in the Welsh countryside. They have a fear of antique pickers coming to their door.
I always remember Bruce Chatwin’s book On The Black Hill. Adult twin brothers live in their family home in the Welsh countryside. They have a fear of antique pickers coming to their door.
I once lost a Noguchi Hurricane dining table in my twenties to some dealer acquaintances. I took a very low price for it as I didn’t like it (over all too high for my chairs). I didn’t know what it was until later, but I did find it in the basement of an apartment building, so it all works out.
I purchased a mask this week. It’s intricately made out of peacock feathers. It’s horrifyingly ugly and fascinatingly beautiful at the same time. Not quite a hat but check out this link: BILL CUNNINGHAM.
Isabella is that you in the white shirt dress? I must start packing for my trip to NYC.
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