(Brownstones in Winter * by Ellis Wilson provided by the National Archives)Many years ago when I was a graduate student at the University of Georgia, my Step-dad and I got lost one evening in an interesting conversation about antiques. I was surprised to find that he shared a concept about them that I am certain he nor I had ever discussed with anyone, much less each other.
We discussed the somewhat mystical yet somehow desirable idea that what we loved about old, pre-owned furniture was the 'imprint' that may be left behind by the prior owner. Sometimes the imprint is in a nick or scar, sometimes it is discernable in the faded finish. Note how much more valuable an unrestored antique is on the market. There seems something noble and right to be the newest steward of a history bearing object that now stands sentry in the new owner's home. My parent's home is full of antiques. If our theory holds, then their home is a veritable army of 'imprints' somehow silently interacting in their current setting.
Little did I know that this concept would hold fascination with me across my lifetime. I now perceive that objects are not only branded by bearing witness to our lives but somehow influence and inform our daily lives.
