A Place for Artifacts?

My Gems

A framed print of My Gems by Irish-American painter, William Michael Harnett (1848-1892), hangs over the piano at Merry Mount.  As you can see, it is a still life painting that depicts (among other things): books, a lamp, burnt broken matchsticks, a pipe, a tankard, a piccolo, an inkwell and quill, and sheet music. Notice that these artifacts seem well used and make reference to the five senses. 

As one approaches retirement, one is forced to look around one’s office and make decisions regarding items collected or gifts received, and find a place for them.  Which artifacts do I keep, which do I give away (who would really want them?), and which should be thrown into the trash bin that is then buried in a landfill? Some artifacts have been brought to Merry Mount and wait a time in retirement when I can make a decision about where they will be displayed or stored.

Taking a broader perspective, pending retirement presents one with the opportunity to look to the past, ponder the future, and make decisions about the need for material objects (all are not artifacts).

Artifacts are piling up at Merry Mount, are they worthless?  How is their value decided and who decides it?  Is Merry Mount becoming a museum?  Am I to be a curator?  Yikes! Too many decisions.

I leave you with this poem by Frank Avon.

 I leave 

                Biography

Artifacts (a poem by Frank Avon)

We are defined by artifacts,

the things we keep about us.

We will not be confined

to dictionary definitions:

He's a quarterback.

She's very pretty.

They're workaholics, all of them.

She's Asian.

He's as rich as Croesus.

Their dancing is divine.

We are defined by the things

we keep around us, won't let go:

Antiques, with the patina of life.

Paintings that color conception.

Postage stamps, traveling sedentary.

Rare books, pages to the touch.

Deciduous trees, harmonizing space.

Paperweights, animated gestures.

We are defined by artifacts,

hard facts, unrefined, tangible:

Automobiles, luxury or economical.

Clothes we wear, to shelve our selves.

Implements. to use and for display.

DVDs, stored away, rarely watched.

Coffee table books (no one looks) .

Rings on our fingers, silken things.

With artifacts we define ourselves,

are protagonists of our own fictions.

Everything we own is a metaphor

for what we have or haven't done.

Whatever we treasure is a melody

(jazz, pop, folk, rock, operatic) .

What we choose to keep, clarifies

who we are, who we choose to be.

We are defined by things prosaic,

things prophetic, things archaic.

If you would trace

our etymology,

it's not a documentary,

it's not a family tree;

it's what we keep,

until at last

what we've kept, is,

like us, set free.

Aaargh!  Come to the museum.

CPW