Tag Archives: collections

rock on.

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this is not me, but if i had a rock room it might be me.

i love finding rocks

especially heart-shaped rocks

 

i am always looking for them no matter where i am

 

 when i find one 

 

voila! – it’s magic

 

i only keep the very special ones. 

‘rocks are records of events that took place at the time they formed.

they are books. they have a different vocabulary,

a different alphabet, but you learn how to read them.’

-john mcphee, american writer and pulitzer prize winner

 

‘trash has given us an appetite for art.’- pauline kael

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A New York garbage depot holds a secret collection of weird and wonderful refuse.

The Treasures in the Trash Collection

On the second floor of a nondescript warehouse owned by New York City’s Sanitation Department in East Harlem is a treasure trove—filled with other people’s trash.

Titanic. The Exhibition

– DMV

Titanic. The Exhibition

Most of the building is used as a depot for garbage trucks, but there’s a secret collection that takes over an entire floor. The space is populated by a mind-bogglingly wide array of items: a bestiary of Tamagotchis, Furbies; dozens of Pez dispensers; female weight lifting trophies; 8-track tapes; plates, paintings, sporting equipment and much more.

The Treasures in the Trash collection, was created entirely out of objects found by Nelson Molina, a now-retired sanitation worker, who began by decorating his locker. Collected over 30 years, it is a visual explosion, organized by type, color, and size. Atlas Obscura had the chance to visit the collection with the New York Adventure Club, take some photos, and revel in the vast creative possibilities of trash. Unfortunately, this isn’t a collection that keeps regular hours; drop-ins are not allowed. For more information on the occasional organized tours, email tours@dsny.nyc.gov. Sanitation workers are welcome anytime.

“uncommon thinkers reuse what common thinkers refuse.”

-j.r.d. tata

 

 

source credits: atlas obscura, dylan thuras, new york adventure club

collection location: 343 East 99th St., New York, New York, 10029 usa

 

 

whimsy.

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Spread across two floors of a regal old 1920s bank building in Astoria, Oregon, this collection is packed with unexpected finds at every turn. It’s a smorgasbord of quirky curiosities, so you never know what treasures or trinkets you’ll come across.

There’s little rhyme or reason to the assortment of oddities. The oldest item, a Native American chair seat made from colored porcupine quills, dates from the 1850s. But the rest of the whimsical wonders are a medley of old and new artifacts from around the world.

You can climb inside a full-sized replica of a British canal narrowboat parked unceremoniously within the old bank building, scan the exhibits for intricate wax boxes, or simply wander the room until you stumble across a piece of vintage clothing or jewelry that sparks your interest.

There are so many things to see, it’s difficult to decide where to start. A striking collection of Folies Bergère dresses and hats immediately catches your eye as you enter—some of the hats even have the name of the dancer who once wore them scrawled inside. Dolls, both daintily beautiful and disturbingly lifelike, are scattered throughout like well-stationed guards. Taxidermy creatures, including a charmingly cute miniature horse, lurk in unexpected places and antique curios hide among newly commissioned works.

The museum is the work of Trish Bright, a retired stockbroker who bought the former bank with her husband in 2005. The curated odds and ends that fill the space are her ever-growing passion project.

“museums are custodians of epiphanies,

and these epiphanies

enter the central nervous system and deep recesses of the mind.”

-george lois

 

 

 

 

credits: museum of whimsy, trish bright, atlas obscura

where hobbies, hijinks, and capers go bad = my childhood #1

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it began with the arrival of a letter when i was seven years old

with stamp on it that looked different from any i had ever seen

so beautiful and very exotic

and it came from my nana

who lived far away from michigan, in the exotic land of florida.

i thought that it was beautiful

and i decided then and there to become a stamp collector.

i cut that stamp from the envelope and glued it into a notebook.

not long after

i saw an offer to join a monthly stamp collecting club

in my archie comic book

and i noticed, as  i went to send in the offer

 that a parent had to sign it

so i asked my dad to give me his autograph on a piece of scrap paper

cut it out and glued it onto the form

(an early foray into my ill-fated attempts at a criminal career)

added in 99 cents from my piggy bank

and i was off to the races.

i eagerly awaited the day my first stamps would arrive

i had chosen some beauties and i ran home every day

hoping to find them in the mail

and on one glorious day – they were waiting for me!

i tore open the envelope

excitedly looked through them

licked them and placed them in my book

already looking forward to the next month’s arrival.

no one in my family was a collector

so i was taken by surprise when i showed them off to my friend’s older sister

who told me that real collectors only put them in cases

never touch them, and would never, ever lick them

– or they would instantly be made worthless!

i was quite taken aback

as it had never occurred to me that

this would be the reason people collected them

i had thought of them more as a collection of tiny beautiful pictures,

pieces of art, from places far away –

new guinea, finland, new zealand and even the legendary land of  canada

i had chosen flowers, and children, and animals, and pretty designs

with no interest at all in old president’s heads, history, nor with any regard for value.

my version of ‘stamp collecting’ was simply collecting my favorites

and keeping them all in one place, in my special notebook.

i have always loved a mix of patterns and colors and collages of things.

the other thing i had not considered at all

was that i had no income

and would have to continue to pay in order to continue to receive stamps

the next month, when my new set arrived

i gathered more change together, put it in an envelope,

and of course it was never received.

they sent a new batch of stamps along with a due bill and i was panicked

still without any source of income

always waiting for them to show up at the door to tell my parents and to collect.

by the third month,

i simply collected envelopes that came from them

affixed with boring american stamps,

filled with letters, asking me to pay up

and my stamp collecting hobby fell by the wayside.

though i still have a great appreciation for beautiful stamps

and love licking them to put on handwritten letters that i send to places all over the world.

“synonyms for collectable postage stamps: “sticky treasures,”

“collection of paper heads,” “pretty bits of paper,” and “colorful scraps.”

-alan brandley – The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

 

john k. king.

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john wanders through the stacks. 

by far, the most interesting bookstore i’ve ever spent time in

john k. king used & rare books

is a bookstore out of its time

located in detroit on 4 floors

of what used to be the advance glove company building

filled with over 1 million volumes

 completely uncomputerized collections

 organized into more than 900 categories

by a team of energetic and helpful staff members

each floor has a manager who is responsible

for knowledge and maintenance of the categories held there

upon entering you are handed a map and directory

 you are free to wander you way through the floors

until closing time.

john began collecting and selling books as a teenager

selling them out of the trunk of his car

and he continues to this day

on my recent visit to the store

staff members said he was in his car

headed to cincinnati to acquire a new collection

every time they sell a few books, he takes on more

he’s now purchased the old otis elevator building

behind the store to use as

 an annex for his art and rare book collections

this is a store and experience not to be missed.

 

“i thought i’d go to a bookstore and see what moved me.”

-erik larson

 

 

 

 

credits: john r. king books