one book called monsters of the household variety.
twelve hundred dollars. which threw my rolly chair from my drafting table all the way back to the bookshelf. which is something...really something...since i am very gentle 'round this desk of mine. my dad transformed it from old and throwaway-able to pure caramelized wood magic.
but then i saw the inside.
and then i understood. i got it. completely. this is not just a book. it is art.
but then i saw this.
oh, man. this takes wish to a whole new level.
the anthropologie sight, it goes without saying, is an utter marvel. as is ruth ashton, for sure.