Monthly Archives: August 2012
How long has this steely-eyed, bearded ski patrol been sitting on a shelf, waiting to contact the base about potential avalanches and injured skiers? I’d be willing to bet that it’s just about as long as this lady has been … Continue reading →
Our artist-in-residence and lawn chief extraordinaire Patrick Beall (check out his rapid magic at this house) has finally unveiled his current work in our shop. This piece measures 5 feet wide by 3.5 feet high, and he spent 85 hours … Continue reading →
I like finding games like these in a closet. Oftentimes, the items we encounter are dirty, broken, or too far deteriorated to be of use to anyone else. But these games seemed to have all of their pieces, and the … Continue reading →
The carrying strap on the green, plastic booze-container reminds me of a frat boy version of the Spanish bota para vino, which is a goatskin boot used for carrying wine. It’s associated with long journeys and matadores, and adds a … Continue reading →
As I approached this deck a few weeks ago, this scene transported me to a remote area of El Salvador. Something about the architecture of this home certainly brought me there, but also the idea of a personal paradise lost, … Continue reading →
Grand plans are laid, only to be stopped cold due to a lack of funds. You hear about it all the time, whether it’s a grand condo tower that’s supposed to go up downtown, a neighbor looking to restore a … Continue reading →
A toilet in the front yard doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. Some people re-purpose their jettisoned crappers as flower planters, fountains, or urban art. Here, though, we have a porcelain outcast, a once-useful sanitary tool that now … Continue reading →
I imagine the Huffy Fancy Dancer tucked behind the Christmas tree, waiting for the little girl of the house to discover it. Mom and dad are rubbing their eyes, waiting for the Folgers to finish brewing, while the girl shrieks … Continue reading →
This stack of vinyl was gathering dust in a dilapidated garage out in a withering suburb. I never got the chance to appreciate the music contained within these records’ grooves, nor did I bother to check to see who the … Continue reading →