Friday, October 13, 2006


The Auction Houses

Little Dolls...they get to me every time. What is their history, I wonder? What are their names and where have they lived? The ones with the matted hair I want to comb. The ones without clothing, I want to dress. Even the scariest of dolls were once loved (usually so much so that their hair is matted and clothes are worn). It takes great self control to not rescue them.

And I am also compelled to pick them up from the hap hazard way they are strewn about at an auction or yard sale. It's more than visual merchandising. They have cute as well as sad, neglected faces that seem to say - sit me up and make me look pretty! So when I finish photographing them, I group them.

I had a hobby horse as a child and it made the rounds as four kids grew up. I'm sure I could find a 1982 vintage photo of my sister and me rocking to and fro on it. At some point the seat cracked and it became uncomfortable to ride the horse. But nonetheless, I cried when the parents kicked it to the curb on bulk trash pick up. Like the dolls, the horse (and all our toys) have personalities. He didn't want to be hanging out at the top of the driveway like to actual garbage?!

This truck was sitting next to a slew of old trains that were raking in the dough. It amazes me what a market there is out there for vintage transportation paraphenelia.

This reminds me of stories my parents and grandparents would share...sledding in the local park in West Philadelphia or taking over a neighbor's strench of property (when they moved to the 'burbs in the 60s) and spending the entire winter day bundeled up, sledding with brothers, friends, cousins, the entire neighborhood!

I did a double take with this. Clearly this contraption is older than my parents. Possibly older than the grandparents. Maybe my great grandmother used it to make her homeade pizzelles :)

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