Treasure

My trips to salvage shops have been, in part, fueled by the hope of finding a real treasure. You know, the item that gets you on Antiques Roadshow. That dusty old lamp that turns out to be Tiffany. The "ugly" painting that's a lost Piet Mondrian. The armoire with the cracked varnish that's worth a small fortune. The simple diamond ring you found in a friend's flowerpot that's from 1886 (this one was real. No, I didn't keep it).

But then, I thought, "treasure" is a subjective term. We've all heard the saying, "One man's trash is another man's treasure." And it's very true, which is likely why the phrase has stuck around for so long. I'm not an expert on antiquities or art, nor do I have much interest in becoming one, so toodling around secondhand stores is likely to get me nowhere if I'm looking for something of monetary value.

I have a few original art pieces in my home (not counting my own), and I bought them because I liked them. I didn't care about resale value; in fact, I'm almost certain two large paintings I have are just expensive forgeries.

So Antiques Roadshow is out. And that's okay. I got a really nice stained glass panel from an antique store in Sellwood about a month ago. The only information available was that it was from an estate in California, and likely constructed in the early 1900s. The previous owner was a collector of stained glass. It's clearly American, and original. The price was reasonable to me, knowing first hand how much it costs to construct a piece of this size, so I bought it. I can't haggle to save my life, so I didn't.

But I'm very happy about it! It's an early Christmas present to myself, so it's wrapped up and I won't hang it until then. Here's a picture:

I saw it in the window and I just had to have it