The Collections, episode 2. In which the fermacarte come out to play, or "Millefiori di ottobre."

Another month in quarantine, another collection. With the shoes put to rest (only one pair of sandals found themselves in a KonMari donation pile) last month, I turned my attention to a favorite collection that I see daily, but often take for granted. The paperweights are out and about in our home, but I don't often take the time to admire them so they were a perfect candidate for my "millefiori di ottobre" FaceBook posts this October.

I didn't start out with the intention of collecting paperweights, certainly not 33 of them in the past 32 years, but there they all are. I shared 31 of them with you individually this past October during my daily FaceBook posts and I'd like to present them all to you now as Mari and I see them every day.

This is the overhead view, through the glass top of the coffee table
(which is very awkward to remove, especially just for a photo shoot, so on it stayed).

I honestly don't remember where they all lived before Mari and I found "the perfect coffee table" for our living room about 15 years ago, but they were not clustered together in any one place. One of the more exciting things about collecting (anything) is finding items in a variety of different locations (even different states, countries, and continents) and bringing them all together or "recollecting" them as I have been fond of saying in this here blog. While several of these paperweights were purchased at the same location (the Michiana Antique Mall and the West Palm Beach Antiques Festival at the South Florida Fairgrounds come to mind), even those were purchased from different vendors and booths and often years apart.

This is the view from the couch.
I like to think of them all snuggly cozy, each speaking their truest bold and bright selves.

Most of my paperweights have found me during travels when Mari and I regularly visit fleamarkets, antique malls, and garage sales. As you know by now, many of our travels are influenced by the location and timing of these events. 

I didn't realize until I started arranging photos on my computer for the FaceBook
posts that these two looked nearly identical, despite the one on the right being
nearly twice the diameter of Lefty, so Righty is making his public debut today!

More blue.  As you know from my shoe (and sock) collection, blue is a favorite hue.

Fallo blu!  (Go blue!)

Aside from my obvious fascination with blue, Righty includes an example of a portrait cane.
I have never come across a human portrait or silhouette, but the shamrock is a beloved symbol.
Fallo irlandese!  (Go Irish!)

It was fun to discover these two patriotic tributes among my collection.

Aside from all the multi-colored millefiori fermacarte I have collected over the past
three (plus) decades, sometimes the modest varietals can be simply spectacular.

I have to take a moment here to apologize to Italians (and Italian-Americans) everywhere for my attempts at providing language instruction during the past month. Humble and instructional my attempts were, however, and I personally delighted in sharing a bit of fermacarte and millefiori history in my daily factoids. I would like to recommend the following resources upon which I relied for much of my historical information.

All about Paperweights (Paperweight Press, 1992) by Lawrence H. Selman

Paperweights of the World (Schiffer Publishing, 2007) by Monika Flemming & Peter Pommerencke

World Paperweights: Millefiori & Lampwork (Schiffer Publishing, 2001) by Robert G. Hall

Lefty is one of my oldest paperweights. To be honest, I really could not recall the first.
Call it age or (hoarding) just having too many collections in the house.

As you know, when I am on the hunt for collectibles, there is never any one item I seek.
Sometimes it is the size, color, or arrangement of colors that catches my collector's eye.

I was immediately dazzled by the bright hues of Righty, so different from the green-imbued Lefty.
As much as I love symmetry, too, I was overwhelmed by the resplendent randomness.

Both of these weigh in at 1.75 inches in diameter, but are so very different!

Lefty is the first micro millefiori paperweight I discovered in my collecting.
I was delighted, but not surprised, to learn that he was made in Murano.
The seemingly "Starry Night" inspired fermacarte on the right is a recent addition.

While Mari and I made it as far as Venice back in the summer of 2013, we did not have the opportunity to visit the glassworks on Murano. Finding the micro millefiori (above left) with its Murano stamp was a most special treat, just a few thousand miles closer to home.

As you know from traveling with me second hand as I look for secondhand collectibles to bubblewrap for their journey to their new home, I necessarily look for small-scale items that are easily packable (and oh so bubble-wrapable) and paperweights have long fit that bill as they are easy to fit in the hollow of a shoe or tucked safely between other suitcased necessities. That is why so many of my collections are made up of so many small-scale items (cuff links, typewriter ribbon tins, pens, owls, teacups, cameras, snuff bottles, you-get-the-idea). I hope to share more of those maxi mini collections with you some day soon, but for now we'll return to the fermacarte who came out to play today.

Similarly hued, these are both on the mini side at 1.6875 (Lefty) and 1.75 (Righty) inches in diameter.
Purchased thousands of miles and decades apart, they now live together in perfect harmony.

One of the most recent alongside one of the oldest in my collezione.
Lefty was discovered during our recent yet-to-be-blogged Maine
adventures and was the subject of my first ottobre FaceBook posts.

I compared Lefty to a snowflake despite his hefty 3.5 inch diameter. So very delicato!
Righty is making his debut today and has tales to tell. He was recovered from one of the many stops we made at the World's Longest Yard Sale in Tennessee and Kentucky back in 2008, my first blog series.

Not all millefiori or paperweights are multi-colored or multi-caned, some are large and delicate, others small and robust, no two alike. That is one of their best qualities and what makes them so fun to collect. When I discovered Righty (above) during our 2008 summer fleamarketing travel adventure, he was unlike any paperweight in my collection, but sitting there atop a precariously poised card table on a Kentucky family's driveway for all of one dollar, he spoke to me and I heeded the call of a kindred soul who yearned to explore the open road. Among his multi-colored, multi-caned, and seemingly more cosmopolitan brethren he now resides.

This unusual cuideam pàipear hails from Crief, Scotland and was made by Perthshire Paperweights.
My only flat-top (slightly concave) was found far from his Scottish ancestral home at a Manhattan flea.

Not quite like the others, but also living in harmony today as you can see at top.
Lefty is a mystery to me in his flirtatiously murky fluidity. I found the colors deliriously soothing.

As mentioned in one of my final posts, the paperweight on the right, above, was a special gift to myself. On September 25, 1989, Mari and I received our first professional paychecks as high school teachers. We treated ourselves to a visit to Corpus Christi's annual Bayfest, a combination music and cultural festival with a variety of activities and events celebrating the end of summer and beginning of fall. Along with the beautiful beach front, Mari and I were drawn especially to the antiques and craft festival at the convention center, naturally. The 3.25 inch diameter paperweight (among the largest of my collezione) was purchased new from the artisan, one of the only times I have had the opportunity to meet the individual who crafted one of my favorite collectibles. It is elegantly aqueous and mesmerizes as much as it gently envelopes every color of the spectrum.

This was an anniversary gift from Mari back in the late 1990s.
She was thinking of me on our special day while thousands of miles away at her June AP reading.
(You aren't seeing double, I just didn't want it to be lonely in case it was giving us the evil eye.)

I presented this true fermacarte millefiori last because it is a special souvenir.
It proudly and literally represents the history of Italian millefiori.

High on my souvenir search list during our trip to Italy in 2013 was a millefiori paperweight from the home of millefiori paperweights. It didn't take long for this unique piece to find me on our first full day in Venice. Along with several thousand other out-of-towners, Mari and I strolled the shops in St. Mark's Square, enjoying the creamiest and dreamiest hazelnut gelato. The basilica bells were tolling, birds (and tourists) were everywhere, and, of course, the souvenir shops beckoned. Mari and I restrained as best we could because three weeks of punctiliously budgeted travels (and luggage space) awaited. It was as we rounded the last corner in the Square that my collector's gaze narrowed its focus and I drew breath for the first time.

Sorry, the melodramatic flows easily when I'm in reverie mode.

Seriously, seeing an entire shop full of millefiori beauties on display must have set my bald spot aglow so that radar could detect me from space.

If you recall, dear reader, the same feeling erupted when I discovered
this Limoges M&M sorter at the Paris flea back in Paris, episode 9.

Technically, my Venetian souvenir is not a millefiori paperweight, but a collection of carefully crafted canes yet to be enveloped by molten glass. I had never seen such a thing and was thrilled to make room for this very minuscolo memento (2.25 inches diameter but only 0.875 inches tall). My deconstructed paperweight now sits within reach and easy sight by my desktop computer. Owing to his vertical challenges, my piccolo italiano doesn't play well with the others and their pinguid personalities.

As you can see in this final view, the collection has room to grow. They will soon be packed away for a seasonal slumber, however, as some beloved Christmas collections come out of hibernation for their own days in the South Texas sun (sorry, that's a lot of glare on the table top). Thanks to all of you who tuned in today and who took the time to comment on FaceBook. It was divertente to share such a beloved collection with you this ottobre!

The Collections, episode 1. In which thirty pair hath September, or "It's gotta be the shoes."

While being quarantined at home since mid March has kept us from travels and fleamarkets, the confining experience has helped me fully appreciate my surroundings. Those surroundings include, of course, my practically perfect and perfectly supportive wife, Mari, and our beloved (spoiled) fabulously furry feline, Mamita...

...and our many collections.

Mamita loving my shoelaces during our final photo shoot

Mari and I were in the midst of lazily unpacking from an amazing three-week adventure just as the country shut down due to the coronavirus and those first few weeks at home were a bit confusing, so I mostly just settled in for long spans of reading books and watching movies (and not unpacking).

And not wearing shoes.

That's where this collection comes into play.

Spending a lot of time at home and, fortunately, not worrying about going to work or working from home (and not planning any travel adventures) left me with just a bit of free time. Not quite enough time to ponder the nature of the universe, but plenty of time to peruse many years of accumulated collections and slightly unsightly cupboards and confused closets.

My "Thirty pair hath September" FaceBook posts had my (shared with Mari) closet a bit discombobulated as I matched socks to shoes for daily photo shoots and then pondered in my best Marie Kondo frame of mind whether each pair was worthy of a home or should be released into the wild with a thoughtful thanks-for-the-memories blessing.

This funky Skechers pair was purchased from the Skechers store

on Okeechobee Boulevard in West Palm Beach in the late 1990s.

Mari and I used to make the two-day drive to visit my parents every year for New Year's.

There was also a frightening moment mid-month when I worried whether there were actually thirty pair to hath! I needn't have worried because when September 30th rolled around, five favorites, well-worn they, remained untouched (and unphotographed until today)!

You will see the initial purpose of the photographs shortly. I will provide a visual aid later.

more Skechers
Once I realized these were no longer available, I stocked up in all the pretty colors.

Now, I know that shoes aren't exactly collectable in the same way that the bric-a-brac and knickknack paddywack I've collected and blogged about for years are, but shoes do constitute a collection that most of us need-want-desire-love so it's safe to say that everyone collects shoes.

As with most of my other collectibles, some of my shoes have a story.

I had to have these.  In blue, of course.

I think this was my first foray into blue shoes and I never turned back. My excuse for spending the money at the time was that I needed new shoes for my sister-in-law's wedding.

Thanks, Lori!

more blue (with appropriately matching socks)

When I first purchased the wing tips below I felt a little guilty and kept them in the box for about a week. During that week I was stopped for going through a red (it was still yellow!) light on my way to work slightly past 7:45 AM. After paying the ticket (which was the EXACT price I had paid for the shoes), I knew what the universe was telling me, so back to Dillard's they went. Fast forward about a year and what do I find on clearance at Nordstrom Rack? In my size?

Twice-bought shoes never felt more comfortable.

During that year since they were initially purchased, I hoped I had proven that I was now worthy.

I don't have much use for snow boots in South Texas, having experienced only the briefest of snow showers twice since my arrival in 1989, but I thought I should be prepared for any kind of muckety-muck slushy-slush Mother Nature had in store. These came in handy during our delayed-delayed Spring Break trip to New York City during Winter Storm Stella in March of 2017. 

You remember, right?

When we missed Hamilton?

Now, if you know me you know that I am all about the souveniring and the fleamarketing and the bubblewrapping and not necessarily about buying anything too bulky for return flight packing like a pair of shoes. However, two pair currently in my closet did make their way into my collection from European travels.

Warnemunde, Germany, July 13, 2017

first stop on our Baltic cruise

That's them in the bag I'm holding!

An awesome Mediterranean cruise landed us with an afternoon to shop in Florence. That's when these found their way into my already crowded American-sized suitcase.

Forget my favorite blue... I was seeing red!

There I am with the bust of sculptor Benvenuto Cellini on lookout

(and just a few tourists) on the Ponte Vecchio, July 20, 2013.

As you might imagine, living in tropical climes necessitates owning sandals. Most of these are Birkenstock, so say what you will... call me a noodge or a liberal or a hippie if you must, but they are comfortable. I don't usually wear them with socks, but I wanted to show off my Icelandic wool socks (also a souvenir) in the first photo, below.

For anyone keeping score, the next two pair did not make the cut of my "thirty days" postings, so here is a special treat for you!

This final water-friendly pair (yes, four pair of Birkenstock) was purchased for that very same Mediterranean cruise and have been my constant pool and beach companions whenever we travel.

Another pair of sandals, Skechers this time, and two pair of über casual Skechers loafers.

As you can see, I am more of a casual shoe aficionado. Even my "dressy" shoes are casual. I'm also all about the loafer. My previously blogged meatloafing adventures not withstanding, I fully appreciate (and embody) a casual loafer (and snappy socks).

These Dr. Martens are about as "dressy" as I can stand. And, yes, it's the same shoe in two different colors. Just. Because.

Then there's the boat shoes. For someone who had never been on a cruise until he was 43, I sure grew up with a lot of boat shoes. Today, there are two favorite pair left in my collection.

So, I'm always ready to set sail, but, as previously stipulated, I don't know my jib from my jab, so simply hand me a drink in a pineapple or coconut and let me get out of your way.

Come on.  Do you really have to ask?

These are my most recent acquisition.

I haven't quite made up my mind about them yet, but I think they just need some attention.

One of our recent quarantine finds on television has been a quirky little show called "Collector's Call" which airs on Sunday nights on MeTV. You may have spotted it while channel flipping, which is how Mari and I came upon it. It's a fun watch for collectors everywhere, especially those with a fondness for its host, Lisa Whelchel.

It's Blair from "The Facts of Life!"

We have learned a lot as Blair (I mean, Ms. Whelchel) visits collectors in their homes and brings along an expert to value items and to educate audiences about the collectibles accumulated-stockpiled-hoarded by these everyday folk. A recent episode featured a shoe collector who could have easily opened his own athletic shoe superstore.

I think it would be safe to assume, dear reader, that I am not that collector.

Along with the thirty pair which September did hath, there was also the additional pair of black Skechers Sport Klone (now pictured above), two additional pair of Birkenstock sandals (also pictured above), three pair of sport sandals that are scattered at strategic places around our home because somebody doesn't approve of me walking around in my socks, two pair of camera-shy black trainers waiting for some training by the front door, and these final three.

I love these Jambu because they hug my feet and are easy to slip on and off with their bungee-laces.

It's probably the only casual shoe I ever really need... but don't tell the others!

Finally, we have the shoes that got me through a very difficult time last year. Many of you know that I came down with ARDS (acute respiratory distress syndrome) in April of 2019 that was caused by walking pneumonia. It is still one of my life's biggest mysteries how that all came to be as I was simply quietly enjoying my first year of retirement and anxiously awaiting Mari's upcoming retirement at the end of May. I don't know how it happened, I just know it knocked me out.

The answer to why it all happened is not a mystery to me. I was given a second chance at life. When the doctors told Mari and me that I had NO chance of recovery without being intubated, but a 60% chance of survival with intubation, there was no question, of course.

When I woke up from my coma after 10 days, the last conversation I had had with Mari was still filtering through my mind and still permeates my thoughts daily. Love and prayer and family and friends and the expert loving care of dedicated medical women and men (a few former students among them) saw me through the many challenges I faced during my month in the hospital and ensuing three weeks at physical rehabilitation.

And of course, a good supportive pair of shoes didn't hurt, either.

I was no longer ambulatory after lying in bed for a month and could do nothing for myself. Walking again was a monumental physical and mental struggle, but once I finally got going, you couldn't stop me. I wanted to live and I wanted to move on.

These navy blue Skechers slip-ons got me through my three weeks in rehab and then through my twenty out-patient physical therapy sessions. At first, I had to use a special tool to pull on my socks and shoes myself, but when I finally regained enough strength and mobility, I loved the empowerment I received when I could slip on these blue beauties myself.

Right now, they are my go-to Covid Era shoe. Mostly now, I look forward to my three outings every three months to three wonderful doctors who have been taking great care of me as I continue to recover. My blue Skechers come along for the ride every time.

When I was able to travel again last fall, Mari took me to a local Skechers store and I picked up a second pair of these as-comforting-as-meatloaf loafers, the gray blend below.

It's always good to have a spare pair.

If you really must know, the main reason I started photographing my shoes was so I could label the shoe boxes in my closet, but as I opened up each box and starting looking over my shoe collection, I realized that they all had good memories and stories to tell, so I thought I would share them with you, dear reader.

You don't have to walk a mile in anybody's Skechers to know that now is the time for all of us to support one another and look out for each other. Thanks for walking a few steps in my shoes!

Here's the whole collection.