I have a mixture of inherited paintings, a few of my own pictures and some landscape atmospherics bought in Sarlat during trips Ann and I enjoyed through France.
I don't much like ornaments. They pose the serious problem of dusting and accidental destruction as result. Again, I'm blessed with some inherited crystal as well as what I think to be a couple of Lalique pieces that cause me mental grief during my rare hoovering/dusting moments. I have a service of silver teapots, rosebowls etc. that we used to enjoy having on display, but that for a couple of decades, at the very least, have gone dull within cardboard boxes, all stored away. The reality is that a lot of this stuff is only relevant to past eras of society when there were people employed to keep all these things shining; today, many see only the associated problems of maintenance. We had friends who couldn't even give their silver away to their children, kids already very well established in their own businesses. Quality wine glasses and similar, smaller liqueur glasses etc. sit in a cupboard unused, and other places are taken up to house expensive crockery that can't even be machine-washed, not that I own a dishwasher. As I write, stuff of a bygone time. We were given a pretty coffee set as a wedding present, and used it regularly. Then, a neighbour who once owned an antiques shop almost had a fit when we, quite innocently, served her coffee from it. Who needs these pressure in life? Like friggin' Ferraris, I supposed, the things get to own and control you.
Trying, as I am, both to sell my place and realise a good price for it, the remains of the past represent just one more headache that will have to be faced should the property sell as desired. There is far more to minimalism than not being able to spend money or perhaps simply being unwilling so to do. One need only have to face a house-clearing at the death of a relative to realise rapidly the difference between real and imaginary values.
