How about a quick romp in the realm of repurposed and wabi-sabi Rosslyn? I offer you a pair of pictures celebrating perfect imperfection in a functional corner of the carriage barn.
Let’s start with the black and white snapshot of the horse stall (see color version accompanying another post, “Horse Stall Haiku”) above.
Patina. Rust. Wear-and-tear. The horse stall door… abounds in visible reminders of imperfection and impermanence. And yet beauty brims. The image, indeed the horse stall and the horse stall door themselves, exude warmth and comfort and reassurance. No frisky filly within. No stately stallion. Yet life has invested this space with memories… The bumps and bruises of horses and those who tend them are part of this carriage barn story…(Source: Horse Stall Haiku)
Allow your eyes to adjust to the dark. Now look along the left hand side of the image adjacent to the bottom of the patinaed grill. See the leather strap? Long serving as a door handle — now broken at the bottom, and ready to fail at the top — this repurposed horse tack remnant was at the end of its serviceable duty.
Glen had that failing leather pull on the horse stall door in mind when the perfect replacement happened onto his radar the other day.
As luck would have it, a pair of cocoa colored Roskilde boots arrived from Duckfeet several days ago, and their cardboard boot box was fitted with a matching leather handle. I struggled briefly with the prospect of turning this treasure into trash, but I couldn’t conceive of a suitable reuse for the leather handle. What a shame!
But, as you can see in the second photograph above, Glen’s mind mirrored my wanting will far more favorably. Yesterday he sent me that photograph with this good news.
Reused the leather handle that came with your new boots to replace the broken one on the paddock. Was able to reuse the old nails too. — Glen Gehrkens
Pitch perfect patina of aged fasteners and repurposed door pull. Eureka!
While the results speak for themselves, Glen’s instinct and ingenuity rhymed perfectly with a real need and our perennial ambition to reimagine, upcycle, and adaptively reuse. My gratitude overflows!
What about my new boots? They’re a nod to seasonality’s first hints of autumn whispering around my sockless ankles early in the morning. Time for socks.
Fall is marked by a return to socks. For the first time in months… September found me sliding my paws into foot mittens each morning, a subtle reminder, day after day, that retrains the brain into cold weather survival mode after a summer of wild abandon. (Source: Adirondack Autumn 2012: Part II)
Time for socks (and sometimes boots…)
Bravo, Glen. Sure do appreciate the way you think!
What do you think?