I have recently come back from a holiday in the UK, staying with my sister and brother-in-law in Buckinghamshire. They live in a 1930s house that has had several alterations and additions over its lifespan, one of which was the removal of the fireplace in the front bedroom. One of their neighbours, in an identical house, is in the process of a major renovation, which included the removal of the upstairs cast-iron fireplace, which my sister rescued from their skip waste. The rescued fireplace in its original condition Although there was a legacy of many layers of paint, now in a sorry state, the only serious damage was to the left lower corner, and the cast-iron mantlepiece was beyond salvage. The first task was to clean off many generations of soot and spiderwebs, before starting the major work of removing all the old paint. In any restoration project, the preparation is the most important stage of the work, however tedious and unrewarding it may seem when doing it. Here, I had th...
As a child, I had firmly ingrained into my head that "special things" were only for use when guests came, and the status of the guest would influence the degree to which this was applied. This thinking has lived with me all my life, despite innate resistance. Why should one's most valued things live at the back of a cupboard and only emerge a couple of times a year, or even less often - surely we should be celebrating these as a way of elevating every day? I can understand the logic - the more often something is used, the more likely it will get damaged or broken - but the converse is what I am pondering today. If something can give you joy each and every day, surely this is worth the investment of having something a bit more valuable? This mug is a case in point: it was a gift, and the image is taken from one of my favourite buildings, the Art Museum in Milwaukee, designed by Santiago Calatrava. As an example of graphic design, it is a masterpiece, but it scores well o...