That's sounds about right; we all exists inside of each others heads anyway and when one person dies then with them dies an entire universe & versions of ourselves and those around us we can barely comprehend. Subjectivity is all there is really, unity in diversity. But when I die then my version of things ends right there - all that's left is a loads of books, records and instruments that'll be of no further use to anyone. Fodder for the funeral pyre....

We each of us curate our own museum though; times I think all this decluttering is GOOD idea though - put your treasures in heaven, or in an ipod - and if I could get it down to ONE instrument and be fully portable despite my nomadic inclinations; and all these books, and all that vinyl...   Talk about Folklore; which always suffers because of the objective assumption, but Trad or Revival it invarioably comes down to the individuals who do it. Like that picture Jim showed me from when the Padstow May thing was just one man being looked at askance by the other villagers.

One person; that's all it takes...