My friends and I got up and went to a neighboring town to go to an estate sale at 8 am. There were l20 people already signed up for the 9 a.m.sale so we had time for coffee and a doughnut before it started. We knew there would be fabulous art because the home was owned by a professor of architecture at the University of Oklahoma.
I knew the house would be weird or let me say original. It had the worse traffic pattern I have ever seen. I never found the kitchen. All the living was evidently done at basement level and the upstairs was a repository for his collections. Things varied from primitive to fine French upholstered furniture. I was interested in some signed Native American art and I found what I was looking for. There were lots of animal bones and skulls.
I think the house was about three stories high with random small staircases leading to bed rooms and baths.
I only saw one bathroom but surely there had to be more.
One stair case led to the main living area downstairs and another to a workroom. There was a collection of all lengths of t squares, bones, old chests and old tools.
Keep scrolling down, I goofed.
I got a gorgeous piece of gourd art with a flight of our native scissor tail birds painted against a black background, a beautiful Native American painting and a primitive basket made from an armedillo shell. I also scored a couple of pieces of unique jewelry. And I forgot, some native American Christmas ornaments as a gift for a friend of mine. They are fashioned from wheat and straw.
I have known a lot of Architects and they always want to make a statement when they build their own homes. This was not a house that I would ever like or want to live in. However, it was a treat to be in that world for a little while. The covered deck was the best part of the house and was right off the living room. It was a great day. I enjoyed my friends, my finds and an exposure to
a little diverse thinking.
I