Glass

I have very little interest in clothes or handbags or shoes. I fear that no one could accuse me of being a naturally elegant person. But I do have a weakness for glass. (And china. And chocolate... .)

I love the transparency or translucency of glass and the way it glows under a light; I love the brightness of colour that glass can have; I love the sinuous shapes that can be formed in it. I love the feeling of it: smooth and cool and solid. I also marvel at its relative cheapness.

I enjoy grouping pieces together, moving them around from time to time, even dusting them. (How sad is that?). The three pieces above, for example, were bought at different times and from different places and I only recently put them together.

My family indulge my fancy by kindly giving me pretty bits of glass for Christmas and birthday presents. But I now really have quite a lot and have to rotate my collection, keeping some in cupboards. Which is good because it makes me look at them and enjoy them anew once they come out again.

I'm trying to think of how to describe my wish to own glass objects. It's not an obsession (too strong) or a mania (much too strong). I suppose it's an urge. It's not an admirable trait but I think it's harmless enough. The habit's more or less under control. More or less.

It's funny, isn't it, what we like to have around us? One person's ornament is another's clutter. I have a very very minimalist friend who, after years of having nothing on her mantelpiece (nothing! I could no sooner have nothing on my mantelpiece than go out in my bare skin and let me tell you, I'm not going to do that) - anyway, after years of naked mantelpiece she put a plain, clear, glass decanter on each end of it. Impressive in a way, but ... not for me.

So - are any of you minimalists? Do you think it's inborn or learned or developed?

Hello, by the way, to the friendly lurker who commented the other day, and to the other blogless commenters whom I can't visit. Waving to you!