I always find something interesting in booth 128 at the Sherman Oaks Antique Mall. A few months ago, it was a lamp with a green onyx column and brass-colored scrolls curling up either side.
I didn’t buy it. It needed rewiring, and I already have more lamps than tables, with a few of the lesser ones in storage. But every time I came back to the mall, I passed that booth and looked at it again. And again.
My router and cable boxes sit out in the open near the living room mantel. I’ve been looking for an old console radio to hide them in, ideally from the 1930s or 40s. The earlier the better. A radio like that needs something on top of it. A lamp, obviously. I thought of this one right away, and I was sure it would be gone after all those months.
So I made a deal with myself. If it was still there, I’d take it. If not, I had lamps in storage.
I didn’t go straight to booth 128. I wandered the first few booths, studying old frames and brass candlesticks as if I’d come for those. Then I turned the corner, and the lamp was on the same shelf where I’d left it.
Picking it up was the surprise. It’s a slim lamp, and I expected it to feel light. It’s heavy. Up close, the pale green onyx has rust-colored veins running through the column and base. Even the beaded collar near the foot is finer than it looked from a distance.
First, I’m having it rewired. After that, I can already picture the pale green stone against the lighter walls near my Art Deco-inspired mantel. A little period mixing that I think will work.
The radio is still out there somewhere. I haven’t found the right one yet, which means I bought the lamp for a radio I don’t own. I’m fine with that. The radio was always the excuse.
