Knick Knacks

What do you call 'knick knacks'? Brikabrac? Ornaments? Crap that should be in landfill? Whatever it is called I sometimes look around and wonder where my minimalist aesthetic has gone to. I have knick knacks. Everywhere. Or, as they are sometimes called, dust magnets. Everywhere. And I'm getting to a point now where it is pointless to go thrifting, as I simply have no more room for any more forsaken souls. It is indeed a tragic state of affairs...





















And the sideboard, the shelves, the tops of radiators for crying out loud.... all are full to over-flowing with knick knacks. And don't even mention the Pyrex, oy vey. I did toy with the idea (after the shelf collapsed under their weight... oops) of doing a show and tell of my Pyrex obsession. But thought against it. Firstly, people may have assumed I was showing off (instead of crying for help), but secondly, I didn't want hard evidence of my pathological collection. It ain't just a river in Egypt. If I don't admit it, it's not real. We can still pretend it's a few pieces or a small collection, instead of the insane all-consuming, shelf-destroying compulsion it really is.

Yes. Let's just do that. And these dust-collecting knick knacks? That's a normal part of everyday life too, right?


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