LAS CRUCES – When I decided to do some weekend exploring,
who would think I’d end up at an estate sale with what amounted to valet
parking perks?
I followed signage and helpful, neatly uniformed staffers
who directed me to a convenient parking place and then drove me in a golf cart
up a steep hill to a lovely home overlooking the Mesilla Valley. It was the
second day of the sale, but there were still some works by artists I recognized
and an impressive collection of American Indian pottery.
The next weekend, at an estate sale close to my own
neighborhood, I found a beautiful baby grand piano very like my mother’s, a
drum set, and a man who told me about an enticing Rolls-Royce for sale at a garage
sale nearby.
I realized it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a such
sales, and even longer since I’d held one myself. It was back in South Florida,
more than two decades ago. When I merged households with my sister Sally for a while,
she decided it was time to clear the decks. She put in a classified ad and made
signs for what she billed as “A Sale of Two Sisters,” Sally’s Dickensian twist
on “A Tale of Two Cities.”
The sale itself was not so much fun, at least for me. I’m a
private person and found I didn’t enjoy a couple of days of strangers rampaging
through our premises and our personal possessions.
I went through the process one more time when I left Florida
to move back to New Mexico, but that time, I invited mostly friends and
neighbors.
Since then, I found myself more inclined to make way for new
décor and life changes by giving things away to friends and relatives, or
donating stuff to the many good and deserving organizations I admire here.
During these periodic unfettering sessions, I’m reminded
that garage sales, along with antique, thrift and consignment stores, have been
crucial to my home ambiance. Except for brand new beds, major appliances, a
matching leather couch and recliner, and most of my arts and crafts collection,
everything that surrounds me is the booty from creative treasure hunts.
In my home office, a bamboo desk and chair from a Palm Beach
yard sale is one of the rare survivors from my last cross-country move. Early
Las Cruces garage and estate sale finds include tea carts, a big coffee table
and end table and the mismatched chairs I’ve painted and ornamented that
surround my new kitchen table. There’s a pretty armoire that fits perfectly in
the corner of a guest bedroom (after the nice man from the garage sale where I
bought it graciously offered to deliver it, and then had to dismantle and
replace the room’s door frame to get it in). And there’s more, lots more.
I wish I could follow the example of James Kanel, the owner
of Mesilla Valley Estate Sales. He has a discerning eye and clearly understands,
admires and appreciates beautiful things, but told me he hasn’t collected much
of anything himself for years.
“My favorite thing about stuff is watching it leave and
having someone pay for it,” he said.
I like seeing my no-longer essential stuff leave for good
homes and good causes.
Now if I could just convince myself that nature and home
décor really do not abhor a vacuum, I might get closer to my minimalist Zen
lifestyle goals.
My working credo is that I must be able to envision a
perfect place to put anything new before I decide to bring it home. Then I see
a painting, or a kachina or a piece of talavera that’s worth a weekend of
cleaning and rearranging to showcase.
And I think of J. Paul Taylor. He has amassed and artfully
displays a unique and wonderful collection of antique and contemporary New
Mexican art and artists and international textiles and folk art that is among
the finest in the state, or anywhere, for that matter.
He recently confessed to me that in his mid-90s, he’s still
collecting. Maybe he’d like to join me next weekend at this great estate sale I
just heard about…
S. Derrickson Moore may be
reached at 575-541-5450, dmoore@lcsun-news.com or @derricksonmoore on Twitter.
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