My home is far from stylish. It is however unique and filled with items of affection. Everything has a story and everything in it means something to me.
Every decoration, every painting, every object and even the furniture holds a sentimental value. My home is a collection of memories and details which define who I am.
Such is my light in iron and wood, as I like to call it. A simple but very unusual lamp, made from cast iron and rough wood, it was given to me by my parents when they relocated their home a few years back. Purchased in a gallery, the lamp is created by an artist that must have loved the rugged and the pristine found in natural materials and who could see something beautiful in the unusual.
It used to hang above the stairs in my parents house and I recall its mystical shine, as it would cast shadows over the walls in the evenings. I always found the lamp slightly enchanting and intriguing.
According to my father, the wood is a former harness that held the horses reins, while the majestic animals would be ploughing the fields. I do not know the age of the wooden object, however due to the type of its former use, I sense it carries perhaps over a century of history in its rough surface. I often wonder about the animals that laboured arduously, once long time ago between its edges, as well as about the lives of the people that led them. Ultimately I am also fascinated by the artist that envisioned an enigmatic potential in a discarded piece of tool, to see it become once again of use for centuries to come, but in a new, unique way.
To spread enchantment through pale and intimate shine, in a unique home.
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