I found these in an antique store in San Diego — near Hillcrest or Kensington or somewhere near there. I was 23 with a new baby. I wish I had asked more questions.
I know nothing about them, and neither did the antique dealer. The shop sold things on consignment, and these were tucked in a corner. At least I could have contacted the original seller.
But anyway, I fell in love.
A friend once remarked that they were incredible, and maybe from somewhere exotic — somewhere like West Timor or Java or I don’t know, some place where beautiful things are made by hand with care.
Or maybe they were somebody’s old tables, covered with paint and stencils and lacquer by a steady hand in his garage.
(Know anything? Please leave a comment.)