One woman, a good eye, and a lot of sandpaper.

Second Verse is a small family workshop run by my mother. She has always had a habit of stopping the car when something catches her eye at the side of the road: a chair with a broken cane seat, a bedside table put out with the bins, a mirror leaning against a lamppost.

Nothing here was bought at auction. Every piece was found abandoned on a street somewhere, carried home, and slowly brought back to life: sanded, repaired, refinished, sometimes rebuilt into something new.

"Same object. Different song." Nothing here is new, and nothing here is going to landfill. Everything gets a second verse.

Because every piece is found and reworked one at a time, the collection is small and always changing. If something speaks to you, get in touch; you'll always get a reply from a real person (usually her, occasionally me).