For Christmas my friend Louise gave me this little green deer. I think it was probably in her house and knowing me as she does, she thought it would be perfect for me, and of course she was correct. It's a sad fact that I squee with glee when I come across small ceramic cutesy animals. At my store, the jewelry cabinet has a scattering of them, along with a growing collection of head vases and ceramic hands.
I never intended to be a collector of anything. But as you probably know, if you have one of something, then someone will think of you when they see another, and then give that to you, and so will someone else, and pretty soon you have a collection whether you like it or not.
(Sorry for the poor quality of the photos, they were quick and through the glass display case.)
My grandmother's house was full of things like this, so for me it's definitely a nostalgia thing. She collected ceramic baskets, and kewpie dolls, and painted plates, and colored glass minitaure pitchers, and her house was a comfort to me. It was also filled with things she'd made - crochet afghans, doilies, embroidery, and the oddly wonderful dresses made out of at least four different quilting calicoes that she wore every day paired with men's plaid flannel shirts. Loud, incongruous, ugly, but wonderful and definitely original. Before the fire I had a vintage suitcase filled with about ten of her dresses, which I was saving for some future art project. I don't have them anymore, or anything of hers. Miss you, grandma.