A Curio Shop Where We Are The Curiosity

I've had just enough time to...   wander through all kinds of everything

Old books in an used suitcase left by the side of a street in Parma, Italy

On the same night that we met the fruit seller, we wandered into a curio shop. It was used books in an old suitcase placed on the walkway by the side of the street that stopped us in our tracks. Books that I have a weakness for like chocolate to some, sinfully delicious. Curiosity dragged us into the shop and into a world of wondrous things. Impractical, kitschy stuff mingled with surprising finds and genuine articles that may be Art to some and “what in heaven’s name is that?” to others.

The shop that sells "all kinds of everything"

I always love being in a shop of “all kinds of everything”. The mind wandered through a dozen cultures, hundreds of possibilities and impossibilities. It amuses and stimulates the imagination. Creative thoughts burst forth skipping from items to items never giving one chance to settle down before one’s attention is grasped and pulled away to yet another item of curiosity. A curio shop is fairy land and we are the child in a toy shop. The mad house is a testament of man’s creativity and insanity. 

Arts from many cultures of many lands and books of more...

There are two kinds of people running curio shops and if you do not come across the mercenary types, you are in luck. These other folks are like the items they sell - odd, impractical, amusing, interesting, warm with an earthly glow and what do you know? The Italian saint of Everything smiled on us. The old man with distinctive features and a pitchy voice manning the shop spoke to us – in Italian of course. And we did not understand, of course. We tried English, that didn’t work. He called for backups. His assistants, or friends or family appeared from the woodworks. They tried French, no good. German, sounded strange. We tried Mandarin, drew recognition but no comprehension. Filipino, that stumped them. Portugese, eh-ah. Spanish, ah a few words both sides knew, but too few. In desperation, Bahasa, Cantonese, Hokkien, Hainanese and we drew to an agreed conclusion. We didn’t know what the hell the other party were talking about. 

The owner among his treasures, he deals in dreams...

When words failed, smiles and laughter paved the way. We joked, laughed, more at ourselves than at the situation. In the shop of curios, we are the curiosity. We did not buy anything. But on the way out, the lady companion of the kindly old shopkeeper gave me a postcard of the shop as a memento. It was a good one. 

A precious gift of memory which is treasured...

The Curio Shop - The Interludes

Laughing dolls and painted soldiers

Standing in a row

Marching bands and ballerinas

Dancing on their toes

Carousels and photographs

Of memories that I know

You’ll find them all inside

Come see the curios

Come see the toys for sale,

There are so many things –

Oh, won’t you come inside?