When I was young, oh say about 7 or 8, I would cringe at the sound of "garage sale". I had this terribly bitter taste in my mouth from being dragged all throughout the bleakest city on the face of the earth, while my grandma picked through piles of worthless junk.
She had this room near the back of her house with stacks of bins. Each bin was labeled as to organize all this stuff.
So she bought things I had no interest in, and when we got back to her house, she stored it away for the day that she would use it. The catch is... I don't believe she's used anything she's accumulated in the last 40 years.
But who am I to judge? Some people collect junk, others are addicted to butterfinger candy bars.
As I grew up, a new love was birthed in the belly of my heart. I don't think hearts actually have a belly, but you get what I mean.
I have this weird new way of seeing something for what it could be in the future. There's such joy in finding incredible treasures for less than a dollar. In fact, a lot of my room decor is made up of wonderful things I found at a garage sale or thrift store.
I've had people say things such as "OH MY GOSH WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?"
My reply?
"Oh, just a yard sale. The lady actually just gave it to me for free."
On my journey throughout this week of exploring new places, I stumbled upon something quite grand. I didn't even mean to go there today, it was an accident. It just so happened that when I parked, I was staring into the face of a glorious sign...
The Collector's Market
Oh my.
Once I had finished what I had drove there to do in another store, I made the decision to embark into the unknown world of this market.
When I walked in, I was happily greeted by what I had expected. Tons of treasures. The first little bit that my eyes began to sift through could be summed up by one word. Soft.
Everything was vintage, and white and cream and pastel. Hand knit blankets, antique children's furniture, white lace curtains, 50 year old lamp stands and fluffy pillows galore. The whole place was divided into these little cubicles full of items from a specific vendor. So every time you took another three steps, the scenery changed again and again. And again. But for the better.
Just when I thought I was in the 5th dimension for the yard sale lover, I saw something so exciting.
There was more to this enchanting world. There was a lot more. A BUNCH more.
An entire warehouse full of probably a hundred booths!!!
So there Taylor was. Walking slower than an elderly man with a broken knee. Skimming and digging and taking in all of the wonderful items. She made sure to look at every little thing she possibly could. She would sometimes stand there in total awe of some painting, antique stool and Native American Rug.
She was so careful as not to miss a single thing. Every little button. Each aging telephone. All the different leather shoes and jackets.
Surrounded by the wooden and the worn. Enveloped in antiquated jewels.
Not only was everything so impossibly marvelous, but there were so many things that breathed inspiration into my soul. My bones began to dance within me at the sight of such potential.
As an artist I soak things within me for later use. I have dreams of creating things, and a place like this is more than fuel to a flame.
It's the dream behind the vision. The vision that sparks reality.
I couldn't help myself. I must have circled through each and every booth at least three times. I didn't want to leave. Nothing inside of me, except the to-do list awaiting my attention, wanted to depart.
So I guess the moment unfortunately came when I had to go. Plus I don't think the owner would really appreciate my spending the night there. That's a bit over the line.
Of all the dazzling things my eyes grabbed hold of today, I only walked away with one item.
I got a lovely gold-colored watch with a woven chain.
For two dollars.
No comments:
Post a Comment