Morning. My favorite part of the day. Quiet. Still. Hopeful. Before rising, I begin with…
I love old things. They speak to me. I think their history gives a room such soul.
I bought this chair last weekend and I love it. I love the wood detail. I love the tapestry with the deer head in the center. I love the patinated hardware that makes it able to fold.
But most of all I love how worn and tattered it is – yet I suspect more beautiful than ever.
I have eyed this chair for quite some time and it has finally come home with me. It now sits in my studio and makes me smile each time I pass.
I wonder where it has lived before. I wonder who has sat in it. I wonder if it was a favorite chair since the place where one’s legs would rest is quite worn.
I’ll probably never know, and I don’t need to know to be able to enjoy it for its present beauty. It is a beauty that would not exist had it not been for its survival under the “wear and tear” of life.
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