Tiny tip-shop treasures

I know I bang on, on a fairly regular basis, about how awesome our tip shops are.

And I know I've previously mentioned that they have an fabulous social-media presence where they post new finds regularly to Facebook, with the option to text or call them to put things on hold.

Which is how I managed to snaffle this reading chair for my library (because in my new home, there is no Room of Shame) for $40, while in bed, in my PJs:

 and this excellently-themed side table for the same amount, at 9pm one evening:

Similarly, I spotted this basket full of minis one evening and popped it on hold:

I recognised most of the pieces in the lot, and already had quite a few of them, but this set of crockery mystified me:

They are most certainly mass-produced, but aren't ringing any bells. And my requests through mini-related social media groups haven't turned up anything.

Do you recognise them at all? My gut says they're German, but I don't know why...

In the studio: the miniature edition...

Looking through the photos I used for my Uppercase magazine Subscriber studio submission, I realised that I don't seem to have ever done a miniature studios wrap up.

So in the spirit of Daily Dolls' House December, may I present some (miniature) studio inspiration from my blog, based on the photos I submitted to Uppercase:

1. Chair and table from a 1990s club bedsit project, repainted for a miniature advent swap in 2010.

2. Pictures of a studio I created in April 2011, inspired by several swaps from blog buddies.

3. Another studio scene I created, this one in May 2011.

4. 2011 was a busy year for studios around here: this one from September 2011 is a cushion-making small business...

5. In March 2012 I apologised for taking so long with a swap...

(in two scales).

6. And finally, in 2017 I announced a new studio after a trip to that year's ACTME show.

Just playing

Life continues to keep me out of my studio (except for when I'm packing it into boxes ready for my move).

But that doesn't mean there are no miniatures in it (my life, not the studio). Here's what I've been up to...

First up, I attended the opening of this year's ANCA Pin exhibition, Pin 8.

This annual exhibition is locked into my calendar as a great place to see (and sometimes buy) miniature art.

This year's budget allowed me to buy this piece by Jen Fullerton (Brown Paper Cowgirl on Instagram):

Then I returned to miniature club, after a break of around 15 years.

We made topiary to go in front of a group project of a house made of room boxes made by club members

 to be displayed at a local railway and model show.

 More recently, I went to the opening of an exhibition at M16 Artspace of work by Clare Martin (an artist I'm familiar with) and Mike O'Kane (a new-to me artist).

I loved Clare's work Dream Home:

 (perhaps because it was in 1/12th scale, and beautifully executed)

and was struck by Mike's works, which seamlessly photoshopped models into full-sized scenes.

Enough that I bought this work, White Fella, for my new home:

Tiny treasures at the tip (shop)

I've previously sung the praises of Canberra's city-based tip shops, especially for discovering unexpected miniature finds.

What I neglected to mention is that there are two more tip shops in Canberra: one at each of the resource management centres (the new term for tip, dump, or whatever you call it where you live). And those ones are massive.

Canberra is in the fortunate position to have a fairly high level of education (and pay) and also a rather transient population. Which means the resource management centres have a regular supply of items too good to end up in landfill (see example A (or is that A sharp?)).

I don't visit the tip shops very often, as I have that whole 'trying to save money/ have enough stuff already' thing going on. But the day after this year's Canberra Miniature Fair and Dollshouse show I popped in because I needed bigger plants pots for my work plants (even though I'd replanted them already at the beginning of the year), and figured it was the right place to start.

While searching for the gardening department, I stumbled across an entire end of the shed that looked like a craft shop: except it was at the tip. Wandering inside, I spotted a dolls' house on display:

It wasn't until I got closer that I was able to read the sign on the top of it:

and got very excited.

Because what they've done is taken a fairly standard kid's dolls' house and used it as the centre of an area dedicated to showing how everyday discarded items can be used to make minis, and offering a selection of items that you might want to use:

An example: 

I eventually found my plant pots (50 cents each), but also came home with these:

(which were $5 total).

March means miniatures

The ACT Miniature Enthusiasts Miniature Fair and Dollshouse Show, to be precise: which happened yesterday.

Here were the highlights for me:

This garden courtyard scene, which was displayed in front of a canvas from (I assume) a bargain shop. The workmanship and detail in the scene was wonderful, but I thought the sense that the scene continued back and up to the top of the hill was a magic touch.

(Speaking of 'touch' I may have warmed up the colour on the photo a touch to give it a feeling of being taken during the gloaming hour, rather than under fluorescent lights in a suburban hall...)

I was interested to see Rhonda and Scott Coleman's menswear shop, as I'd photographed the contents last year (when they were displayed in an IKEA light box) but didn't blog about it. And I was lucky enough to persuade Scott to pose behind it for a photo:

 It's looking very smart!

I'm always a sucker for a dolls' house dolls house shop, and this one seems to carry everything you might need.

The Main Street Gallery caught my attention. So much so, that I forgot to find out who created it, but past me reliably informs me that it's by Jenny Balderson. (She does beautiful work, which I photograph quite regularly...)

(So I also magiced this photo to make it dusk...)

Upstairs is a gallery space, with some beautifully-made pieces on display, ranging across many media,

while downstairs is the art store we first visited in 2009, which is much expanded in its new home.

Business must be good.

Another highlight of the show for me was meeting Jill Fraser, owner of the new New-Zealand miniature magazine The Miniature Time Traveller.

And, finally, the food provided for traders by the Black Mountain School P&C was amazing, as usual. They fed us scones with jam and cream for morning tea, a selection of hot and cold dishes for lunch and this is what turned up on the trolley for afternoon tea:

(Stall holders at the Canberra show are very spoiled!)

You are my sunshine...

Well then. This is an unexpected pleasure...

Let me explain. I was feeling virtuous this morning as I cleared away a scene less than 24 hours after I'd finished it (this being-on-holiday-and-it-not-being-stinking-hot thing is wonderful!)

Faced with an empty room my thoughts turned to that idea of accommodation focusing on the surge of same-sex honeymoons in the offing around here. So I pulled the bed I planned to use out of stash and suddenly (as my brain is wont to do) was heading down a slightly different rabbit hole.

Because the bedding on it looked so nice against the grey rug that was still on the floor from yesterday's build. And speaking of grey, I'd been wanting to use some pages I'd put aside from a book on Annie Trevillian's art (before you start feeling horrified, she was selling the books for $1 each at her open studio so I bought three: one to read and two to chop up). So I dug them out and blu-tacked them to the wall as a test: the fact that the book was square and so the pieces didn't reach the full height of the wall wasn't a problem as I could hide the fact behind the kitchen units...

And I knew that under the carpet at the front of the room was the 'wooden' flooring I'd originally installed when this was the floor of the Seaside Shack dining room and lean-to: which would suit a kitchenette perfectly.

So I pulled out my standard kitchen, added a few bits of furniture that might work, took a deep breath and reminded myself that I have a good, full-time, on-going job so can afford to replace the pinwale if cutting it was a dumb idea. And cut it. (An excellent idea, as it turns out). And took a photo to test my theory.

On the other side of the room I added the yellow egg chair I accidentally bought from Victorian Dollhouses when I went in to buy picture framing last weekend. It fits the collection development policy, and James had it at a good price (and there were no postage costs). Colour-wise, it's a perfect match.

And then I happened to spot a sheet of stickers I'd picked up at the Kaisercraft factory outlet, one of which fitted perfectly across the back wall (aren't I clever, sticking with a smaller room?)

Another test photo, and I was off...

In the final build, the kitchen remains pretty much the same, except for some added accessories (because what's holiday accommodation without a Nespresso machine and a box of goon?)

I spray-painted the chair pads on the tulip chairs to match the colour scheme, and swapped out the original table with one that suits the feel of the place better.

Oh: and I cut a piece of cardstock to cover that pesky black panel left over from when the wall was part of the Buzz Bar café, and added reading lights above the bed (very important, that...) 

On the other side of the room, I replaced the place-holder sideboard with a Europa piece I bought in a bulk lot in 2014 and hadn't touched since. I painted the doors after much inner turmoil, deciding that the outside had already been overpainted and so the piece was better off having its doors painted too and becoming a useful piece, rather than remaining in its half-painted purgatory.

Since we're at the beach, and most people enjoy going there, I added a hawaiian shirt, cap, and a basket containing a towel, water and a book: the people renting the place are obviously planning on going there after lunch (but not too soon after lunch, I hope...)

But if the weather turns, there are a few things to keep the guests entertained:

So there we have it. One room. Two ways. In two days.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring?