What, after all, is mundane?
As the parents are entering the next stage of life, which mother terms simplification, we children are receiving some hand-me-downs. In addition to mother’s giving me some of the gifts she has received from me over my lifetime, I am now providing a home to my great-great-grandmother Elizabeth Dean Owen’s sampler, which has been framed to preserve it…who knows how long? She was born, I think, in 1823.
This has gotten me thinking about items that have come into my possession that I’d hate to see tossed out as junk or sold as part of a miscellaneous box at an estate auction. The first is a gift given to my mother, which she has treasured and now passes back to me to preserve it from the aforementioned auction: a fired, glazed stoneware, Fantastical Nightbird (Thank you, Liz Danforth!). I myself treasure a couple of limited edition works by Paul E. Zimmer that have come into my hands.
What do I do with items that are familiar, but not mundane to me, that may appear worthless to others. Is it a vanity to not want works of art, no matter how small their monetary value, vanish into the rubbish?
I know that my poor writings will vanish, most likely within my lifetime. They only exist, for the most part, on the Internet and the hard drives and backup drives of my computers.
Letting all things go but the immutable.