The flea market near our lake cabin has long been a major source of inspiration to me. I have always felt intrigued by the old objects on offer, as well as the people willing to travel the region (or country), gathering and selling these tidbits. This particular flea market happens every Sunday morning during the summer.
It used to be solely populated by collected items and a few homemade tidbits. Now new products are offered alongside the old, in an Anthropologie-style new-but-looks-old way, but luckily the old treasures still abound. While in high school, I found a vintage flapper dress there which later became a prom dress. My mom has furnished many a room with re-fashioned pieces from there, and it was also there almost twenty years later, where I finally felt the spark of inspiration for the nursery for my first son.
That the childhood flea market outings lodged permanently enough in my soul to have become an inspiration driver did not occur to me until that nursery-related discovery. Having been terrified of babies most of my life, and still a bit confused as to why I wanted one (even though I was sure that I did), I had a true creative block when it came to setting up an appropriate space for the little guy, but that outing opened the floodgates for me.
During that pregnancy, I was only able to go there one weekend, but luckily this time around, I have been able to forage around multiple times in service of the nursery for the new guy, and I am grateful.