a collection of things that belong to me

Je suis une femme, right? Which means, among other things, that I am endlessly fascinated by shiny things. When I was a little girl my favorite thing to do was to go through my Baba's jewelry. Baba's legacy is a bit mixed, but I prefer to think of her as I'm sure she must have thought of herself: a devout, erudite woman and a world-traveler. A Polish survivor of World War II, Baba valued three things above all: Catholicism (faith = important?), her M.D. ("No one can ever take away your education, and with an education you will always be able to feed yourself") and gold (because you can always sell it if you need money -- a la, WW2 movies where they smuggled valuables by swallowing them). So, outdated and somewhat bizarre as it may seem to someone living in 21st century U.S., as she and my grandfather traveled the world she bought herself a piece of gold jewelry in every city they visited. By the time I was old enough to appreciate it she had amassed quite the collection. I inherited my favorite pieces when she passed; it's part of my personal collection of things that belonged to her.

Oh, the things we own. I love those heirlooms -- I love to imagine the history that surrounds them. Where did she wear them? Who was there? What did they talk about? Was it an event worth the real estate in the brain, or has everyone quite forgotten it?

Okay, my mindless ramblings sind endlich vorbei -- I'll get to the point: I went to see the Afghan treasures exhibit currently on display at the National Gallery of Art. The collection -- a handful of artifacts saved from Soviet destruction previously on display in the major art museum in Kabul -- was absolutely spectacular. Afghanistan was once a rich center of art and culture. Hello, Silk Road? They had traders coming through all the time with stuff from India and China and Mesopotamia and Europe -- there are ancient Greek cities hiding underground! Their art is influenced by a myriad of cultures and styles and it is gorgeous. But Soviet tanks obliterated countless artifacts and historical landmarks and killed and maimed and beat down the Afghanis. And today, Afghanistan is known as a crazy country full of caves hiding religious radicals and terrorists. Its people live in penury, there's sh*t for infrastructure -- seriously, it might as well be Biblical times over there. We'll probably never see Afghanistan restored to its former glory in our lifetime. It's sad. I'd love to go to there. You know -- minus the bombs.

The thing is, I can only stay gunned up about history for so long, and then my mind wanders. This exhibit was no different. I don't know how my thoughts get where they go, but there seem to be patterns. Example: every time I see really ancient pottery -- cups, glasses, plates and bowls intricately carved or glass-blown or welded or whatever they did back in 1000 B.C. -- I think about the cups, glasses, plates and bowls in my cabinet and how uninspired and flat-out sh*tty they are. Forget the Silk Road -- say hello to Generic City! It has happened many more times than once or twice that I'll be at a perfect stranger's apartment and find that they have the exact same dish set I have. Or the same shelving unit. Or, for the love of Christ, that same Gustav Klimt print -- you know it. Der Kuess. It's in every college girl's bedroom, hung sideways. How absurd would it be to see a collection of all my things in a museum?? And then this is what flashes involuntarily through my mind:

A Collection of Things that Belong to Me

Completely nondescript blue plate, circa 2007; mass-produced by Ikea. Dishwasher safety unknown, but unlikely. Sort of depressing, but holds food in a convenient position as I prepare to consume it, so I guess I can't complain.







Mascara container, circa 2008; mass-produced by Maybelline. I'll save you some time -- she's not born with it, it's the Maybelline.








iPod unabashedly coated in rhinestones, circa 2006; mass-produced by Apple. Has potential to hold at least 10 times as many files as it does, a point made moot by the fact that I really only ever listen to my Top 25 Most Played playlist. Interestingly, I seem to strongly prefer those songs and listen to them on repeat. Handy that they've been grouped in such an accessible way.




Moose bobblehead, circa 2007; origin unknown. Not exactly "art;" serves no practical function. Not entirely sure how it got here, but bobbling head provides countless hours of entertainment and who doesn't love a moose?







Magnet reading "Jesus would slap the sh*t out of you," date of creation unknown; origin unknown (although Urban Outfitters seems like a good guess). Pictures man (supposedly Jesus) holding hand as though to slap the sh*t out of (and/or bless) another man. Hilarious. Found in apartment upon move-in. Holds up card from my mother. Love it. Keeping it when I leave. Still not forgetting that affection for something does not make it museum-worthy.



It's not just me who lives like this, either. Everyone I know has this kind of crap, even my grandparents. I kind of wonder if wills will become a thing of the past as it becomes more and more pointless to bequeath your survivors things like "low-quality set of knives from Target" or "stupid rooster statuette from Home Goods."

Anyway. After the mental slideshow of the world-famous Kato Collection comes to a close, I can't help but wonder whether the jewelry cases and the makeup containers and the painted vases and the fish-shaped flasks came from the ancient Afghani version of Target. And maybe there are all these dead people laughing hysterically as they watch us fussing over their cheap china sets that they never even liked, and certainly never dreamed would be a protected "artifact." So I figure if it could happen to them, it could happen to me, and I should probably start labeling all my things so museum curators 500 years down the line won't have to add those miserable little question marks at the end of the item captions they can't figure out.

Thus, through generic and thoughtless consumer goods, my legacy shall live on forever... Huzzah!