Who drove those cars? Who built that house? Who lived in it? Did the owners drive those cars? When did they move from Missouri to Montana? Or was it Montana to Missouri? Who took the photo? Is the photographer alive? Is the house in Missouri? Is it in Montana? When was the photo taken?
Does any of this matter?
The nostalgia evoked by artifacts we collect is both personal and not. This photo represents, for at least one person, a deeply moving memory, a literal snapshot of their ancestral history. For another person this photo might draw a reaction equal in nature, but only by way of reminding them of something personal to them. For yet another this photo might mean nothing, and remind them of nothing, but inspire similar feelings of pain or hope or joy. They might not even know why.
In this way, all such mundane artifacts of living eventually become art of the most powerful kind, that which can inspire and move, for disparate people in varied ways.