the richness we've lost

restless. unable to sleep. my brain is spinning in circles, reeling with the onset of warmer weather and a few hours of escape from my apartment, like a creature emerging from hibernation. my bones are weary, but my mind refuses to power down, to let go the images and scents and impressions of the day, the week, the year.

warm wood breathing beneath my fingertips in a surprisingly large Turkish (?) antique store. every piece vital and alive, the wood deep and pungent with layers of history, the colors rich and nothing like the washed-out, sterilized veneers we see everywhere today. tables with presence, with power, flaunting curlicues and inlaid tiles or simply comfortable in their own skin, the grain of the wood speaking for itself. cabinets you could open to find room for a suit of Chinese armor, or the bent, rusted rivets poking through the other side. Turkish lamps hanging from the ceiling, dozens of silent witnesses to countless customers and rituals, their panes of glass ranging through all the shades, their designs fanciful and beautiful. endless piles of cushions, tassled and beaded and rich with texture - satins, silks, velvets. everything in that shop had presence, had power.

Turquoise Decor

one day, i'll have items with that kind of power gracing my home, their warmth transmitting itself to my personal space, bolstering and reassuring.