This vintage stool has been in our garage for 12+ years. I’d forgotten we had it. My husband salvaged it from my aunt’s estate. For some reason my eyes landed on it yesterday when we pulled into the garage after church. It was as if I’d never seen it. From its dark and very cluttered corner, it cried out to me. I snatched it up and started snapping. My husband walked away, shaking his head.
I’m excited about doing an ongoing series with this vintage piece. So if you see me carrying a stool around just honk while shaking your head in passing.
At what intriguing venue do you think I should capture it’s essence?
Sorry, Mikey, it’s mine now.