Research

That tremor when you spot it. You don say anything. You don want to make the present owner aware of its value to you; you don want to drive up the price, or make him decide not to sell it at all. So you keep cool, you examine something else, you move on or you go out, saying you'll be back. You perform a whole theatre o being a little interested, but not immoderately; intrigued, yes, even tempted; but not seduced, bewitched. Not ready to pay even more than is being asked, because you must have it. So the collector is a dissembler, someone whose joys are never unalloyed with anxiety. Because there is always more. Or something better. You must have it because it is one step toward an ideal completing of your collection. But this ideal completion for every collector hungers is a delusive goal. A complete set of something is not the completeness the collector craves. The entire production of some notable dead painter could conceivably, improbably, end up in someone place or cellar or yacht. (Every last canvas? Could you imperious acquirer, be sure there was not one more?) But even if you could be sure that you had every last item, the satisfaction of having it all would eventually, inevitably, decay. A complete collection is a dead collection. It has no posterity. After having built it, you would love it less each year. Before long, you would want to sell or donate it, and embark on a new chase. -Susan Sontag