ASSESSING

I have been uneasy with my purchases of the past few months--I just couldn't put my finger on what was troubling me; so I took a couple of days to assess what I've been buying recently and to bring to light exactly what I have been questioning. Most of what I have bought has been great--no problems in that area. The items are (for the most part) unique--which is what I strive for; nevertheless, I've been dissatisfied when I walk into the shop--it should be making be happy and satisfied. But it is not.

As I was sitting in the garden with my morning coffee (God made coffee just for me, I'm sure), up popped an explanation. At first I discounted the nudge of truth and then I really concentrated. I've been only buying with one-half of my personality--the multi-cultural, multi-national person who loves super collected, precise antiques that are at home on The East Coast, The South or Europe. But there is the other side of me who loves more rustic pieces with deep patinas, great woods that have their history breaking through their surfaces; marble with the stains of a life well-lived. I think that's also pretty true for what I've been revealing of myself. As usual, the nudging revelations weren't just about what I've been buying--but about pushing me to be more revealing of my true nature. This is going to be a hard one as I'm a very private person, true introvert--but if I need to unfold, I guess I'm going to have to work on it. With growth we do have choices: to stay stuck and unfulfilled (not a great option) or to pay attention and go where we supposed to go.

Now that I'm off my soap box and to tie this into my new buying credo: It was early Wednesday morning when I had this growth inspiration and when I previewed my Thursday auction a bit later...........yep, there were several pieces that dovetailed perfectly with the steps that I need to take.

The table above and below is a mid-19th century French pine folding farm table. The moment I saw it, I knew that it was coming home with me. It doesn't adhere to my usual refinement check list, but it has great classic bones and it's 100% original--super patina and soul and it's a great size--about 74"w x 30"d.

Then I spied this stunning pair of 18th century rococo Swedish side chairs and my soul jumped (I have a thing for chairs, especially 18th c. chairs) I wanted these chairs so badly that I could envision their going into the back of the Explorer......

Next to catch my eye was this sweet 18th c. rococo Swedish table

The paint is not original (it has some age), but its an appropriate color--I love the hand forged hinges and curvy sexy legs.

When I arrived this morning just after the start of the auction, another antique Swede was appearing from beneath a pile of stuff and it looked like it had good bones--now the problem is that I really don't have room for all of this new furniture, but you've got to buy when the piece shows up.

I don't have good photos of this third table--just a couple that I managed to take of the base

It has its original black paint on the trestle base with a scrubbed pine plank top (couldn't reach to take photo)--I love old black painted Swedish pieces. (The French or English would never paint a piece black)
So the Swedish trestle table came home (actually Roberto will be picking this stuff up); the folding French table came home; and the 18th c. Swedish table came home...........
.............The swoon-worthy, to die for Swedish chairs went too high for me to make a reasonable profit. And I'm still sad.
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The G20 is in full session and I am so ashamed of "Not My President". How can we ever hold up our heads? I pray that no secrets will be revealed to Putin during their meeting tomorrow. But also secretly relish the thought of him making a fool of himself and speeding up the eviction notice.

I need to get to bed as Mr. Jones and Mr. Cole are waiting.

Blessings,
Mary & Jones & Cole

GROWTH--THE OLD vs. THE OPEN ME

The end of 2014 and all of 2015 were the roughest of years for me--prior to these months, I was a bit arrogant in thinking that since I had already triumphed/overcome so much--life would be smooth sailing. That since I'd already hit the wall innumerable times, it simply couldn't happen again. BOY!!! WAS I MISTAKEN (a thousand exclamation points). I won't go into any gory details as that's pretty boring at this point, but everything and anything that could possibly have happened, happened....life was completely upside-down. For months I questioned what the point was. Where in the world was the benefit hiding, as I'm firmly convinced there are blessings in every situation. But, surely, not seeing them last year.

Today, looking at those HUGE, very phallic lamps, that I bought last week (I didn't even preview them--a big no-no), I realized what the gifts of the last year were: I grew; my awareness of life expanded; a sense of freedom (and a bit of WTF) surrounds me; serendipity is much more in play and I'm content...simply putting one foot in front of the other. My boundaries are sooo much stronger; keeping silence easier; knowing that I am connected to all. I never in a million years would have purchased lamps like these guys: they are not antique; they need a bit of work; they are different colors; they are so MACHO; who will ever buy them; not my style; rather "fugly" ("f______" ugly); not the usual Mary Perfection; I need another pair of lamps like a new hole in my head; didn't know who made them.....etc., etc., etc. But I guess the hidden (forbidden) side of me is coming out. Perhaps my internal, mean self-critic is finally silenced? That mean self-critic has definitely kept me separate from connections, from joy, from creativity. And guess what? EVERYONE who "gets" great current design loves those lamps. Let's not forget they are enormous, a full 45" to the tops of the finials (almost as tall as me).

I even felt empowered to buy a Robsjohn-Gibbings chest of drawers (I've always wanted one of these guys--look at that amazing hardware) that needs a huge amount of work--total refinishing because some dummy painted it black instead of lacquering it black (big difference). When the chest is brought up to snuff it will look like this guy that I pulled off 1stdibs

This guy is my usual style--understated but sexy. They "new me" decision maker didn't care that I'd have to spend about $600-$700 to relacquer the piece or about my usual high profit margin. I just did it. Hmmmm, I guess the Nike slogan has been right all along.

Blessing,

Mary, Jones (new haircut today) and Cole