I was wondering if it would be best to leave some of the old stuff behind, as we’re closing out the new year with a call to ring the old to ring the new. The idea came to mind when my wife, who was remodeling one as a guest suite, decided that a vintage nightstand would be the one to complete the décor.
That meant an afternoon at the local antique store. I usually hate this kind of shopping, but I went for moral support. After all, there was a lot to see.
I’m talking about the mirror in the old hall, calm as a lake, which probably reflected thousands of faces, but which undoubtedly registered my own. Its rich wood had become so polished over time that it seemed to radiate a palpable warmth. It was hung on a peg for Mounted like this, it looms like a masterpiece from a museum exhibit, and I thought I was almost right. With a finely lathed spindle and intricate cheating, he painted a picture as sublime as Vermeer.
While my wife continued to search the quarry, I scoured the nooks and crannies of old books and found a 1918 edition of an essay by Robert Louis Stevenson.
I expected to go hunting for antiques and learn about the past, but what I grasped instead was a lesson about the future, or at least a way to see the future that now seems obsolete. By making things solid, these old-time craftsmen embraced the tacit belief that their country and culture would last long enough to give their craft a living home. rice field.
My wife finally found the object of her desire, just a small piece with a sliding drawer. We got it for a relatively pittance, but it’s not the sort of treasure that wows appraisers at “Antiques Roadshow.”
But what I love about this little nightstand is its understated art. With the soundness of the joints and understated beveled edges, it’s a way to quietly acknowledge beauty as a way of being rather than a form of show.
A little old table in the little corner of our homes as the world bids farewell to a year too often defined by seemingly unpredictable expediency beyond the next election or business quarter. gave me a resolution for 2023.
Make sentences, form arguments, build sheds, and do your best to create something that lasts.
Email Danny Heitman (firstname.lastname@example.org).