After the obligatory new york saturday morning, scrape out the ash tray and wash the empty glasses from Friday night, drag yourself, espresso fueled to yoga and then onto brunch (yes i'm that predictable/sterotypical ) I like to wander on to the chelsea flea market. This is where i bumbed into this little fella. Love him, i had to have him, i already have his big brother, see below. The lady told me a lovely story about selling into a gentleman 10 years ago, how he has now fallen in love and is moving to madrid, so now she is selling it on again for him. This is the kind of thing i love, and also why i love old, vintage, used, found objects. They have lived a whole lot of life before us. And proably will live a whole lot of life after us, hopefully. You haven't met them yet but all over my apt are objects from my grandparents, that were given to my parents, and slowly with trips back home to England and my mother wonderfully lugging things in her hand luggage over here (my great grandfathers wall clock) they are becoming part of my home.
In other news falling back into obsession with Moby's destroyed album, thank you Mary Dana