A lone antique bronze picture light on a bookshelf stuffed with two icons; one from the flea, the other from my hand; an antique clock from Valencia, Spain; an emerald gazing ball sitting in a Pottery Barn mercury glass planter; a glass blown goblet; Victorian inkwell; and a paperweight. The gazing ball, clock, goblet and picture light are from my father's estate, and found their way to the apartment last year. My father, of course, had rather baroque sensibilities, acquiring things more for their shape, character and beauty, rather than their provenance.
The mélange of objects was assembled shortly before a party for a friend—all circles and rectangles; after returning from brunch with Mr. Husband today, I decided to take a photo of it. The picture light gives everything the kind of stage light you'd see in the Edwardian era, which is fitting I suppose, since half the objects in the room are in keeping with it. Now, if I could only look into the gazing ball and see what the future holds.