I have been holding out on you. But only because I don’t know where to begin. About two years ago, I crashed an outdoor flea market with some friends and a small pop-up stall. I used to love the fleas passionately, but as owning things lost its importance, so did the chase. Now, it is about something else entirely: salvaging, recycling and reducing waste. The chase is fun again.
With the pop-up stall, I realized how much I had missed the feeling. Exchanging stories and knowledge about the odd little things. The process of matching unwanted things with the perfect owner, and seeing them light up with excitement over the newfound treasure, there is nothing like it. I can’t even begin to explain how much sense it makes to me. I try to book a flea market stall at least once a month, now.
Things have a way of finding me. Sometimes attics are cleared, and boxes of unwanted stuff is thrown out into the street. I can’t bear the idea of things that could be used, going to waste. It kills me. Sometimes I will find something that is broken, and fix it, or just make it into something different. Sometimes all it needs is a good cleaning, and a nice presentation. The important thing is that it gets a new life.
Things have a way of finding me. Sometimes attics are cleared, and boxes of unwanted stuff is thrown out into the street. I can’t bear the idea of things that could be used, going to waste. It kills me. Sometimes I will find something that is broken, and fix it, or just make it into something different. Sometimes all it needs is a good cleaning, and a nice presentation. The important thing is that it gets a new life.
If something is of no use to me or anyone I know, I make sure it is
forwarded to a recycling centre. Key is to discard only of what is
completely useless. Broken does not necessarily qualify as useless, good
quality can usually be repaired. The worst offender is things and
clothes made in recent time, nobody wants that. Which should make us
reconsider our shopping pattern. There is so much good stuff out there,
and so much of it is going to waste, you wouldn't believe what I have
rescued from the incinerator.
A few weeks ago I passed a large container on Østerbro,
filled with the estate of an old Copenhagen photographer. The people
loading it, invited me to take what I could use, and I grabbed a bag
worth of old photographs, wrapped in paper. It was only when I got home and unpacked them, I realised that I should have taken more, oh.
One of the small packages read "children", and turned out to be vintage
black and white photographs of young Danes, dating back to the
1960s.
All these photograps are by Henning Nielsen. From the tender moments captured, and the way the subjects (on all his pictures) respond, you can tell he was a good man. I wish I could have met him.
Focus... bike... go!
Some things never change.
I haven't been able to figure out the exact location of this, yet.
What cars are good for. Ha.
Pure gold.
♥