Moving is the pits, but there is an upside to all the dusting and wrapping and packing: unearthing forgotten treasures — things you thought were lost or disposed of in the last move — and remembering the history behind those objects. Here are three little packets of pure pigments I bought many years ago on a stopover trip to South Korea. I remember going into that little art shop with the ulterior motive of asking where I could find a good lunch spot. I speak no Korean and the store owner spoke no English. But, somehow, I managed to convey my request. Before I knew it, he had summoned his boyish assistant and, in a lengthy description, instructed him on where to take me. What ensued was a scene out of a film: running down long alleys, in and out of tunnels, up and down stairwells. At one point we even passed through a store, front entrance to rear exit. Finally, thrillingly, I ended up in a tiny, windowless, wood-paneled restaurant. Few meals have been better than that one.