Sunday, September 6, 2020

Going Within: Part 2― Collecting

For all of us, whether we realize it or not, this COVID 19 has caused us to "go within" to discover new and interesting things about ourselves, our environment, our existence.

For me, part of the isolation has led me to revisit and strengthen some of my writing abilities, my collecting talents, and my love of solitude. In "Going Within Part 1",  I discussed my writing. In this blog, I will discuss my collecting. In a third blog, I will look at solitude.

If I had to sum up why collecting is so important to me, I would say that it is a way of preserving my youth and re-parenting myself. By re-parenting I mean re-creating my childhood in a way that gives me control over my experiences, memories, and fantasies. It allows me to remove the pain of growing up, the confusion of childhood, the frustration of becoming. It allows me to glorify and preserve the positive aspects of my youth. My collecting also allows me to share my joy of life with others.


I guess I have been collecting for my entire life. I remember as a little boy filling my pockets with various treasures. None of them were alive, like frogs or such, but rather small bits and pieces of things that caught my fancy. 


I remember sitting on the stairs in the hallway outside of a school friend’s second-floor apartment. We were maybe six or seven years old. He had a cigar box filled with “sparkly” things that his mother had given him. There were bits of broken jewelry: loose sequins, rhinestones, pearls, and silver and gold chains. I remember thinking that this was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen. To this day I can close my eyes and see (feel) the experience.


We lived in Chicago near the corner of Anslie and Broadway until I was nine years old. Yarnell Chevrolet was just around the corner. I used to set up a lemonade stand and sell drinks for 5¢ to the mechanics who worked there. The stand consisted of an upturned, tablecloth covered, wooden slatted orange crate. Oranges really came in wooden boxes during those years.


On one of my dime-store adventures, I bought some “First Place Award Pins.” They consisted of concentric circles of red and blue celluloid plastic with two white celluloid ribbons dangling down. There must have been a dozen of them attached to cardboard and sealed in a cellophane bag. One day, instead of setting up my lemonade stand, as usual, I did a “Museum Installation” on Broadway Avenue. I used the orange crate and the tablecloth and pinned the award pins around the parameter of the tablecloth. Then I set out a display of my favorite things, sat on a stool behind the display, and acted curator as people walked by.


To this day I love dime stores, although their number is almost extinct. I remember when they were called The Five and Dime, The 5¢ and 10¢ Store, Woolworth’s, Kresge's, Neisner’s, Ben Franklin. My parents used to call them “Gimme Shops.” As young children, whenever my sister and I would go into a dime store, we would see things we wanted to have. We would ask (or beg,) “Give me (Gimmie) this.” “Gimmie that, pleeeeeease!” Sometimes my mom and dad would “Gimmie.” Most often they would not. Now that I am a “grown-up” I can “Gimmie” whenever I want.


When we moved to our new house on Kedzie Avenue, I had my own bedroom. I decorated my bulletin board making shelves by suspending rows of rulers from string attached with tacks and then arranged my treasures neatly on each ruler. I displayed my metal cars on the windowsill along with to-scale traffic signs: STOP, YIELD, and ONE WAY.


To this day, I am always on the lookout for small, magical, interesting, romantic, and/or unique items where ever I shop; in neighborhood stores, at antique shops, or on my travels. I know exactly what I have in my various collections and this helps me as I scour the world for things to add to my treasures. Most often the larger the shop, the smaller the item I can find.


My collections consist of items that are small in scale. Many of them are reminiscent of the “olden days” of my childhood as well as items from as early as the 1930s.  I call the things in my collections “Discoverings” “Trinkets,” “Curiosities,” “Small Things” “Treasures.” and sometimes “Miniatures.”


When I visit a museum, I am especially drawn to the small things that represent cultures of the past. These small items are as significant in representing the achievements, beliefs, and day to day living as the true-to-life-size objects. 

Perhaps the small objects were carried around in a pocket or perhaps they were used as a toy meant to instruct a child, or as part of a religious ceremony.


Either way, I am overwhelmed with joy when I visit these wonderful museum collections. The only problem is that I WANT TO OWN THE OBJECTS! Obviously, I cannot afford to collect such rare museum-quality masterpieces, but I try to recreate some of that magic and romance in my collections. I do own a few precious, rare items.


I adore items that begin to lose their features. Finding a small statue of a man whose face is rubbed almost inarticulate because of having been played with gets me excited as does a worn-out Buddha or a greatly used child’s toy block.


I find that there is magic in numbers and if I can collect many of the same identical items, I do. Just as wonderful is to have two items that are the same except in their size. If I can collect the same object in threes I am happy. Don’t know why three, I just like the number.  If I can get one of each color, especially all of the colors of the rainbow, I am overjoyed.


My collection of collections began in earnest thirty years ago. Twenty years ago, in our first home, the collection was approximately half the size it became and was scattered throughout the house. When we moved into the loft building, my life partner Gregory had the idea to devote the third-floor guest room to housing my collections and it became “Michael’s Museum.” Individual glass cases were hung on the walls. Shelves and bookcases were added along with a “curators desk“ and we were "open for business." In five short years, the collections doubled in size.


The museum in our home was visited by family, friends, friends of friends, and neighbors. I had fantasies about finding an established museum in which to place my collections.


In May of 2011, Michael's Museum: A Curious Collection of Tiny Treasures opened as a permanent exhibit at Chicago Children's Museum on Navy Pier. Each year half a million or more people get to visit the museum and in turn spend some time in Michael's Museum.


Even though most of my collections were gifted to Chicago Children's Museum, I have continued collecting. I collect differently. First, I can afford to spend more on the items I purchase. Next, I look for really unique items since I had so many previously. Also, I used to "shop for my collections" based on my "there is magic in repetition" theory. For example, if I saw a set of tiny bowling pins, I would purchase them to add to my Bowling Pin Collection, which continued to grow and eventually filled its own case. I do not do that anymore.


Recently with the COVID 19 self-quarantine, I went through all my boxes of stuff collected since MM opened at CCM, displayed on my desk for a while, and then retired to a plastic shoe box and placed on a shelf in my closet. Most of the shelved items still brought me great joy and I could not bring myself to sell or give any of them away. 


Instead, I purchased display cases from Michael's Hobby Shops (not owned by me 😀). They are now neatly hung in the condo entrance hall, the hall to the guest bathroom, in my bedroom, and in the master bathroom. They are pictured below.


There are also collections on my desk, on other walls, on the kitchen island, in the guest room, and elsewhere. But my most recent attempt is shown below in the matching black, glass-fronted cabinets.


When the "world is back to normal" come visit and I will take you on a personal tour of my Home Collections!


 














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