An old piece of furniture is a joyous thing.
Especially the ordinary items, those made in small factories or by people like you and me. Passed over and headed for landfill because they have no monetary value, their worth lies in their past and their purpose and even the echoes of long gone design trends re-interpreted by the maker.
Being a visual person the shape of things intrigue me. Even when an item seems just "not right" somehow it is just a reminder that a real person made this.
I suppose modern furniture has been made by somebody but when I wander around a big store it just seems so impersonal and soulless. The whole experience just seems more about the store's profit than the item itself.
Or perhaps I am just getting old . . .