The Meta-Monumental Garage Sale by Martha Rosler

In the past few years, I saw two exhibits at the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in New York City that had organizing themes. I’ve always recognized and enjoyed the visual aspect of the organizing work that I do. These installations brought art and organizing into a new light. While the two exhibits served different purposes, present in each were themes of collecting, repurposing, preserving, and letting go.

Martha Rosler’s The Meta-Monumental Garage Sale is on view through the end of this month. She says, “An object is always more than what it is: A chair is never only a chair, a spoon never merely a spoon. It travels through social worlds, and carries forward a history, belonging first to those who produced it, and later, to those who bought, used, altered, sold, traded, or discarded it. Value is ascribed to it, value is withdrawn; value is regenerated.”

Rosler’s interactive exhibit allows you to actually participate in the Garage Sale, by physically handling the objects, bargaining with the sellers, and purchasing someone else’s discards. Similar objects are grouped together. Signs such as “Haggle,” or “Everything Clean Nothing Guaranteed,” along with real time video monitors of people shopping, encourage you to engage in the active art of acquiring. As I walked around, I could feel the buzz of others enjoying the hunt.

Waste Not by Song Dong

The other exhibit, which I saw several years ago at MOMA, was Song Dong’s piece Waste Not. It was a poignant tribute and collaboration with the artist’s mother who would not part with any of her completely filled Beijing home. With his mother’s agreement, he turned her accumulated possessions into an art project. In her culture, the art of not wasting was considered “a prerequisite for survival.” In our culture, this type of saving without any dispossession would be thought of as hoarding behavior. The installation included the complete contents of her home, amassed over fifty years. Everyday items like pots, plastic bottles, and empty toothpaste tubes were organized and displayed for viewers to walk through and see. While you couldn’t touch the objects, as in the Garage Sale, you could get close to them without any barriers.

The things we collect, save, and let go of are integral to our human experience. With these two exhibits, someone else’s letting go enabled us to reexamine these objects as art, life, and new possibilities. What are your thoughts about acquiring, saving, or letting go?

Our stories connect us, speak to our humanity, and let us know we’re not alone. Especially because of the dramatic events these past days, many due to storm Sandy, each of you have stories to share about change, frustration, flexibility, love, gratitude, letting go, and perseverance. I’d love to hear them. How we choose to perceive or respond to a situation can transform sadness into joy, or pain into gratitude. Here are a few perspective shifts that I recently experienced.

Letting Go

Our daughters always shared a small bedroom, which included a matched set of twin-sized captain beds. Since they are now in college and beyond, with one daughter temporarily moved back home, we planned to redesign the space, sell the beds, and replace them with one larger bed. We thought it would make the room more spacious and comfortable for family and friends. The girls encouraged the change. A few days after storm Sandy, the person buying the beds came to pick them up. In preparation, we emptied the room, which created temporary havoc in other areas. We cleaned, purged, organized, and put things back into this once familiar space. I hadn’t anticipated how upset I would feel when the room was disassembled and the beds left the house. The chaos of having things out of place along with the unpredictability of the storm stirred my emotions. The room’s transformation, which included letting go of the beds, marked the end of an era. My eyes welled up as tears of loss streamed down my cheeks. After some grieving, my tears stopped. Warmth enveloped me as I reflected about the positive family memories we had and new times ahead. As I let go to make room for the next stage, I felt lighter.

Gratitude

Within a few days of selling the beds, we realized that due to the storm, one of our large oak trees was ripping out of the earth by it’s roots and leaning dangerously over our house. Our tree guys came to assess the situation. They explained that we weren’t safe in the house, the danger was imminent, and our tree needed to be cut down. They couldn’t do the work right away because they were helping other local families who had more serious problems like trees crushing their homes. They secured the tree temporarily, which held it for two days before they returned to take it down. When I first realized that we were going to lose the tree, I was very sad. I loved this tree. It provided shade, was beautiful to look at, was familiar, and strong. As the days passed, my sadness shifted to gratitude that the tree had been removed before it could harm our family or our home. The sense of loss was replaced with feelings of gratitude.

Love

The day before our tree was removed, I brought my mom back to her home. She stayed with us for about a week because the storm left her without power, heat or phones. Once she settled in, I searched her house gathering up all the flashlights and making sure they were in good working order. My dad passed away in March. He loved his toys and gadgets. I knew that somewhere in his office he must have a multi functional flashlight. During my hunt, I uncovered three of his flashlights. The first was a bright yellow flashlight, which included a siren, a flashing light, and radio. Finding this made me smile because I found one of Dad’s “toys,” and cry because I missed him. I also found a flashlight that worked by shaking it, although, I couldn’t get it to light. Lastly, I found a large red flashlight that had a built in first aid kit. I showed them to my mom and the two of us burst out crying and then began laughing. Although he was gone, he was with us, helping us appreciate the humor and feel his loving presence.

It’s been an emotional time. How about you? What have you noticed during these past days? Have you seen any perspective shifts? Come join the conversation. Share your thoughts and stories.

Sometimes it’s the big things that help us appreciate the little things. How often do we stop to acknowledge the things that we often take for granted like phone service, heat, gas, or hot water? We just expect things to work, to be there when we need them, and to go on with life as we know it.

Many of us, including me have experienced some crazy things in the past few days due to superstorm Sandy, not just loss of services, but also fear, panic, and disorientation. In our town and many others, there are still people without electricity or phone service. You may be one of them. Gas and food are becoming scarce. I'm grateful that our electricity, heat, phone and Internet have all been restored as of today. They came back in varying intervals. I’m starting to see some very positive reports. I hope that all of your services are back soon too.

In the midst of this “storm,” I reminded myself of many things that I was thankful for. It helped me to keep a grateful perspective even in the face of uncertainty, fear, and potential danger. In the last few days, these were some of the things that kept me going. I was grateful for…

The safety of our family and friends

Our house being spared from falling trees

The stillness caused by the blackout

Reading more than usual

The extra time with family

Laughter

Imposed digital break

Cozy blankets

The lights and heat returning after 24 hours of darkness and cold

All the days when we had electricity and warmth

A hot shower

A hot cup of coffee

A hot cup of soup

Flexible, understanding clients

Other people’s resourcefulness

My own resourcefulness

Other people’s strength

My own strength

The brightly colored fall leaves

Living close enough to my Mom to bring her to our house for safety

Finding one working cell phone area in our town

Friends and family that checked in on us

Friends and family we checked in on

Having food to eat

A fuller house than usual

Making “French” chocolate in honor of my aunt’s visit

Phone service returning after four days of being out

All the days we had perfectly good phone service

Answering a ringing phone

Picking up the phone to make a phone call

Internet and email restored after five days of being disconnected

Many days we had of fully operational Internet and email

The messages of hope and good wishes on Twitter, Facebook, and email

Acknowledging that I can’t control everything

Letting go

It’s going to take me time to get back to normal. There are hundreds of emails, tweets, and other messages to respond to. There are calls to return and projects to complete. I’m still catching my breath. I am so grateful to be sitting here today with my hot cup of jasmine green tea, writing, and sharing this post with you. While the storm put me a bit off schedule, we’re here now. Together.

I’ve missed you. I’d love to hear how you’re doing. What’s on your mind? Please take a moment or two to share. At this moment, what are you grateful for?

“And thank you for a house full of people I love. Amen.”

— Terri Guillemets

Life throws us curve balls. Some we catch and others get dropped. During the last several days we had family emergencies, change of plans, comings and goings, and hosting for Thanksgiving. There were tears, laughter, music and quiet. There were hugs, dancing, pain and joy. It was a yoyo of emotions and moods.

Pauses for resting, eating, walking and just being helped me navigate the tumultuous days. Mostly though I was filled with gratitude that our daughters were home and much of our family was here. Holidays can be difficult because we miss our loved ones that can’t be with us. This year, some had other plans, some have passed away and some were too ill to travel. It was a mixture of sweetness for those that were here with a cloud of sadness for the ones we missed.

My heart is full of gratitude and love for the time-shared both in the distant and recent past. With more holiday time coming, I’m looking forward to having the family together again soon.

What are you looking forward to?