Rescue and relove

The cookshop is no more, but there is still work for me to do under the banner of "rehabilitation". Those who know my shop and know me will be familiar, if only by sensory perception, with my instinct to salvage and redeploy. The premises itself is an exercise in recycling bits of old building.

I can't help myself, it just happens. Sometimes when I am poking about in a junk yard, or minding my own business near the Wood container at the recycling centre, a small voice calls out. "Help" it whispers, "help meeeeee". I try to turn my back but there is something plaintive and soul-crushing about a broken desk or wobbly chest of drawers that has been chewed up and spat out by life. Can't ignore it, anymore than I could ignore an abandoned puppy. So I rescue, and I clean, sand, mend, buff, comfort, cherish and coax back into life. Then when we are both ready, I will bring it into the shop for its new loving owners to find in the future.

This is what I mean by rehabilitation - the process of recognising and revealing what is already splendid, marvellous, astonishing, delightful in something that Time appears to have buried and neglected. So each of my pieces is unique, destined for just one perfect home where it will be happy and treasured for another leg of its journey.