A Tiny Village from the Market
Six small handmade figures appeared while I was unpacking an auction market box at home. They are light, imperfect, and full of quiet character.
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Six small handmade figures appeared while I was unpacking an auction market box at home. They are light, imperfect, and full of quiet character.
Read full journalMarket Find / 6-piece set
They were mixed in with other old things, and I brought them home almost without thinking. Later, after the usual work of unpacking and sorting, a tiny village appeared on the table.
A person holding a broom. A small seated figure with red cloth. Two travelers wearing straw hats. A quiet woman beside a little sign made from wood and bark. Each piece feels as if it belongs to the same old countryside scene, but each one also has its own face.
Three bases have handwritten markings: 43.5.23, 43.5.26, and 43.10.19-20. They may refer to Showa 43, which would be 1968. I cannot confirm the maker or the exact place they came from, so I do not want to say more than the object itself tells me.
This set is not perfect. It has age wear, small marks, and delicate handmade parts. One or two heads feel slightly loose. I will pack the six pieces together with extra cushioning and a firm outer box before international shipping.
On market mornings, the table is never perfectly arranged. Bowls, trays, boxes, and folded cloth sit together for a little while before I begin cleaning and checking them one by one.
A small bowl can be very quiet. I first notice the weight, then the rim, then the small marks left by use. Those details matter more than making an old object look new.
Lacquer shows light in a gentle way. Small surface marks are not only flaws; they tell us how the tray was held, placed, used, and kept.
When a vessel is no longer used for sake, it can still hold a branch from the garden. This is one of the reasons I like old objects: they do not have to stay fixed in one role.
Wooden boxes are part of how objects are protected, stored, and remembered. Before listing one, I want to show the corners, the lid fit, the grain, and the marks from storage.
Some small objects do not need a grand explanation. They belong near coffee, notebooks, shelves, and ordinary rooms. Their value is in the feeling they quietly add.
Stoneware can feel closer to a small sculpture than a vessel. For this kind of piece, the photographs need to show texture, weight, and how it sits in a room.