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an old wooden rocking horse aged to perfection

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Abandoned.

Unique. Rustic. Primitive. Beat up. Weather worn. Old. Shabby. Faded. Antique. Retro. Vintage. Industrial.

Cracking. Paint peeling. Surface chipping.

All of it and more.

Aged to perfection is this treasure, a wooden, hand carved, child size rocking horse encompassing the ravages of use and time in its beauty & patina.

 

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I’ve had it for a few years now, a piece that never ceases to make me smile.

It’s the texture in the piece that really gets me.  Jute tale obviously not original.

I’m not a photographer and plod along doing the best I can. My efforts at close-up images are to convey the detail around the face, the texture laden body and some three-dimensional aspects.

 

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Nostrils.

Hand carved.

Remnants of colour, paint. Weathered and patinated.

 

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Texture.

Dry and cracked leather saddle & strap with rusty stirrup. One stirrup is missing.

 

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How many children rode this rocker?  Who were they?

Was it owned by a family? Handed down? A school? A playground? A church?

What is its story?

Why can’t it speak and tell me stories and tales of its time with the children . . .  sigh.

 

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No doubt once painted in bright shades as they were . . .

The rockers & base have long vanished.

 

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Detail.

Nostrils. The mouth, tongue, lips and teeth.

 

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Wooden handles.

 

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Carved mane.

Etching. Chipping paint. Peeling.

 

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How beautiful would it be restored to its former glory?

I prefer it ‘as is’ with its natural antiquity reflecting years of use, wear and weathering.

 

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Beautiful character & textures.

The jointed sections you see were once painted over.

 

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Hoofs.

 

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Aged, weathered, faded, yellowed.

 

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Aged. Beautiful vintage. Old. Pre-loved.

Quite a heavy beast.

No longer abandoned.

 

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Will I combine it with other things in a vignette style?

Will I leave it alone, to show off its perfect decay and exquisite shabbiness?

Resting on the old fireplace surround and mantle for now, the mantle leaning against the wall.

 

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Perhaps, at Christmas time, I’ll put this big old toy under the tree. But will it fit? Not quite. It will sit beside the tree.

 

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This was another of those instant love moments right when I set eyes on it. One of those ‘a ha‘ moments when you just “gotta have it no matter what” it takes.

Those who love the old and antiquity, the rustic, the shabby, the vintage patina, know what I mean.

Those who love the clean out, the spring clean, the brocante, the flea market, the vide-grenier. the garage sale, the yard sale, the jumble sale, the car boot sale, the clearing sale, the estate sale, the annual fete, emptying the attic . . . know what I mean.

Those who love to forage, hunt and gather at antique markets and stores, at vintage and collectible shops, at secondhand shops, at community op-shops, for that lovely old piece, know exactly what I mean!

We know.

(throwback post)

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