The Zen of Death Cleaning | Part 1
Due to a recent death in the family and through a very specific set of circumstances, a peculiar history if you will, several generations of things including furniture, dishes and glassware, books, family photographs, art created and collected by family members, plus handwritten notes, cards, diaries, etc. have accumulated in one house which I find myself compelled to look through.
On Becoming An Unsuspecting Art Collector
I have never asked the painter though, if he experiences the curious emptiness that I sometimes feel in the aftermath of a sale. I have traded something beautiful for a number. For money. And now that the cycle of commerce is complete, what next?
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?