|Elephants for memory|
My first thought this morning - absurdly, since it was I who had chosen to keep the contents of the boxes and the other assorted bits of useful paraphernalia crowding out my downstairs rooms - was 'I must de-clutter'. We have been brainwashed by design magazines and weekend colour supplements into thinking that we ought to be living in spaces with immaculate clean lines in impeccable muted neutral colours. But as we get older, our possessions, our books and photographs, plates, mugs and spoons remind us of how and with whom our lives have been lived. I am my clutter, mon debris c'est moi.
|Trays's of the past|