Recently I visited a friend who does estate sales. This is where an appraiser comes into your home and tags all your possessions for sale. In the case of estates, usually you get to amble through homes and see the previous tenants home life. The layout of their previous remodels. Or how people use to live. Reminds me of "RoboCop" where Murphy (now re-birthed as a cyborg) walks through his previous home and gets glimpses of his previous life.
If you've walked through homes that have life in them, you don't really notice it. But, once the occupants have left, there is a very odd carbon copy of life that was once there. It's a melancholy feel. The two times that I have gone, both instances I realized that the people who lived in those homes weren't that different than me. In fact, they both reminded me of my parents' home. It's usually stuck in some era where the furniture doesn't match the walls. Or that there is just a mish mash of things collected through time that people refuse to get rid of. Books, cookware, personal items as bedding or heating pads. Generally speaking, given the time, I'm sure you could piece together who these people were.
The odd part wasn't that you were looking through a person's home that is most likely dead. It is how little differences there are in our lives.
If you ever watch the movie "Citizen Kane," Charles Foster Kane was a collector. He amassed a castle full of oddities. Items and "stuff" that when you pass, it means nothing to anyone else, besides something to auction off. In his case, you're dealing with expensive oddities. To most of us, it amounts to junk or crap. I have a shitload of crap in my home. All things I think are worthwhile...to me. Crap to others. In the house I visited, there is was a coin machine for a busses. The kind where you throw in change as you got onto the bus. This is completely useless in the functioning world other than a set piece. Or a conversation starter. For whatever reason, this family felt it necessary to have. It's an antique. The value is what you want from it. I have similar items. And am sure when my life is picked over, it will generate the same curiosity. Who is the idiot who thought a Polaroid 95A camera would have ANY function whatsoever. This is who we are.
When I visit my relatives in Taiwan, there is a similar sense. Taiwan is a very pragmatic country. Everything can be repurposed into useful items (or at least what you think is useful). Since it is an island and still has that island mentality, nothing is really discarded. My aunt typically save things for later. Although, a room full of cardboard boxes can only be stretched so far until the only purpose it has is to use to board up windows during winter times.
I think we're all sort of...hoarders. And not hoarders like we have an arm around all our goods and things come in and none go out. But we hold onto a lot of things with sentimental values. We don't like to believe it, but we to live in the past. Some people don't, of course, but the past is the only thing where we can paint rainbows and sunshine on it. If you live in the present, it's hard to ignore that crap is piling up. Or that you'll "get to it later." We all know that never works. And the future is what we can only anticipate.
I remember living with a girl when I first came out to L.A. I couldn't afford a place so I took her on as a roommate. She had a TON of antiques. It filled our space. To me, an old schoolhouse kid's desk with no function but to take up space was aggravating. I didn't see it then. I see it now. To her, the spirit of the thing is rustic. To immerse yourself into a bygone era that may've been simple. To make her environment comfortable.
At a certain point, we will all get old. Not just old, but also tired. This will mean that your life and the things around you will stop. As will fashion and design. When people pick through your life, they will see where you stopped in life. The couch is from the 80's, whilst your carpet and wallpapered walls stopped in the 70's. Not that you'd care how they judge you. But, the generation (such as my own parents) are fading. The new era will bring in flat screens and faux leather sofas. And we'll wonder when my generation stopped re-inventing their space. I think in the "antique" sense nothing really expires. I think our era will. Just seeing a iOmega zip drive for sale at this estate brought that reality into focus. Someone will have to go through "your stuff" eventually.
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