Antiquarian Sophistication of the "I" and the "Eye" Upon the "It"
I have entered the ‘end’ of ‘antiques’? That the commercial collapse of the antiques ‘market’ has done that; collapsed, and taken the actual ‘antiques’ with it (piled in the corner, Part Five). And... granted (given) I... a nom de plume for them as that as... “stuff”. (Again Part Five). Could I be... ‘couldn’t be better off’? Is this opportunity?
“But again: Has all this really turned to gold?
Yes it has.” (I said that at the very end of Part Four).
Let us begin. May I come to your house and see your stuff? May I? “I don’t think so.”. You say. And no surprise there. The décor is forced? A selfish march of your sophisticated “I” precluding upon its physical equal of your “eye” to do that (force) and ...knowingly gather “it”; the
Your stuff? Then... “I”
Arranged it.. with a few of “those too”; “antiques”. Yes... those antiques... the ones that are ‘those’... your “I” assures the “eye” as it views your ...placed... “it”. Was it in the corner of the room when you started... or did you find it down the street at a
No bother; at least it will not hurt anyone there (where you ‘I place it here’ in your home). It is only a ‘passing look’? Anyway?
Yes it is.
Because your “eye”
Is forced by your
And that ‘I’ and ‘eye’ has never been...
By you... or anything... or anyone... “ahhhh....” “else”.
You are not even piled in the corner. “Be Good” (Part Five)
Is your middle name when it comes to
...The ‘oil painting’ above the sofa with the coffee table you ‘picked out’
Before that sofa and the sofa’s
Cushions. The fabric. The spray-on spill and spot guard.
Yes that; you know exactly where you keep that can. I know: So much art may ‘overwhelm’. So take the surplus “OUT”. Put a basketball hoop dead center above the garage doors. “No, no”: The hoop IS a direct design line from the sofa’s ensemble; a direct sophistication of the
Lack of the sophistication... of the, too, antiquarian sophistication of the “I” and the “eye” upon “it” (“my stuff”).
It’s a mess... I know... but... evidently... you like it that way. I remind; the ‘market’ for ‘antiques’ collapsed because of the
Way you are. You...
And your stuff is junk (“trash”).
That is right. Your “I like” stuff is not worth
The antiquarian sophistication of YOUR “I” and YOUR “eye” upon your
So stay out of this.
Thank you for doing that.
Tidy up with a FEATHER DUSTER.
NOW what do we do?
Go to a museum?
Even if you go there, PAY admission and roam, use the toilets, eat at the cafeteria and visit the gift shop... you don’t even know how to ‘visit’ a museum. It is, actually, a skill...
Anyway... that’s not gonna work back home with sofa and the basketball hoop. Especially... because the ‘good stuff’ (real antiques) are cast in the corners of
OLD NEW ENGLAND...
And all one has to do is engage the antiquarian sophistication of the...: Yeah, that. Again. START that and start dragging the ‘stuff’ (ridiculous high quality old New England decorative arts from ‘long, long, ago’ that have been cast aside by... faddish tasteless et al). One day one ‘thing’ you know you see that is a sophisticated antiquarian ‘it’ EVEN IF YOU DON’T KNOW “yet” EXACTLY what it is but you
Reach out and rescue,
Reach out and rescue,
Reach out and ring toss your own whole salvation too towards...
And two become one at home looking at each other from the dining room.
You sit in a chair
Alone in a self built world with sounds of antiquarian banter, prattle, postulation and direct criticism. Awful coordinated cares, colors, combinations cascade in your mental trash cans while outside your ragging roaming rhapsody muttering self created antiquarian peninsula of sophistication of one’s own ‘I’ and ‘eye’ upon the...
YOU... have just stepped across the border yourself. The sophistications of the chairs you choose to sit in... becomes...
A snowdrop in the melting spring snow of your discernment; your ‘I’ teaching ‘eye’ and ‘eye’ teaching ‘I’. A loving partnership with the chairs all around you; your ‘I’ and ‘eye’. Caring for that you do now. Lifting the old ‘seating furniture’ out of the corner and ...presenting it to yourself, your ‘I’ and ‘eye’... while
The others ‘eat’ “that”.
A quick glance says there is ‘something’ over there. Your ‘I’ sends your ‘eye’ out after it; a command... “go and SEE”.
“That one is better (a better chair) than the one I am sitting in.” It is empty. GET UP AND GO SIT IN IT. You do.
You ‘look back’ on the trail; back over where you’ve been. That chair...
Is over there.
You are right... with your ‘I’ and ‘eye’; “This chair is better; a better antique chair”
Because you are so damn sophisticated when it ‘comes to antiques’ in old New England. The other people, eating the food, do not notice any of this. They are
Piled in the corners
Eating the food.
You could buy the chair; tell them (the owners) ‘how much’ you’ll pay.
Then pay and take it away. But do not bother... disturbing their meal. The animals are snappish when eating. Best be the shadow
From the corners
Sitting in the chairs
There is plenty of time for you to gather... antiques... from... old New England homes these days. It is a... no one – nothing... bothers you and your sophisticated antiquarian adventure. And
The antiques are abundant
And, at very least... ‘very reasonably priced’
If not actually ‘very inexpensive’
This status is unlikely to change... in a lifetime.
Unless... ‘Wasp Rage’ steps back “IN” as a
That is when a Wasp standard; a traditional Wasp standard (a ‘flagship’; “having old New England antiques”), becomes obsessively popular with mass consumption as a requisite for showing off “GOOD” (Wasp) “TASTE”. This is very unlikely to happen
I have shown
The “I” does not know, has bad taste and
Is very assertive as to what they “Think is Good”
“OH WHAT AN EIGHTEENTH CENTURY TEAPOT YOU ARE... you old FOOL.”
“The tea... in that canister, was fished out of the (Boston) harbor by my great, great, great, great... grandfather... who took it home to his wife; my great, great, great grandmother
The old woman