#persian rugs london

[vipcarpetcleaninglondon]

Proper Cleaning & Care Tips For Your Persian Rugs & Carpets From Professionals

Rugs and carpets without the risks of colour bleeding and shrinkage explains a professional who deals with the service of Persian rug cleaning in London over the years. Read more

[blondieeu]

═╬ blondieeu . my hero academia ⌕ masterlist リ

✘ smut

➜ TOMURA SHIGARAKI Ꮺ

2 seconds ✘

➜ KEIGO “HAWKS” TAKAMI Ꮺ

under your spell ✘

➜ TODORKI SHOTO Ꮺ

"black wives are for grown folk."

➜ DENKI KAMINARI Ꮺ

dk drabble ✘ , yes, and?

anything ✘

➜ AIZAWA SHOUTA Ꮺ

ass or tits? ✘ , london

persian rugs ✘ , comfort inn

➜ EIJIROU KIRISHIMA Ꮺ

scarlet ✘ , like you ✘

luv this Shit ✘

➜ IZUKU MIDORIYA Ꮺ

blame ✘

➜ KATSUKI BAKUGOU Ꮺ

magnolia ✘ , prom

early bird ✘ , pyrimids

in my room ✘ , (2) missed calls ✘

one in a million , sleepy ✘

hold on

blondieeu xx

[ecocleaninglondon1]

Eco-Friendly Carpet Cleaning in London: Sustainable Solutions for a Cleaner Home

In the bustling city of London, where environmental consciousness is on the rise, the demand for eco-friendly cleaning solutions is higher than ever. From the charming streets of Knightsbridge to the elegant avenues of Kensington and Chelsea, Londoners are seeking out green alternatives for maintaining their homes. This growing trend includes a significant focus on eco carpet cleaning—a method that ensures your carpets are clean while also being kind to the planet.

The Rise of Eco Cleaning in London The push towards eco cleaning in London is not just a passing trend; it’s a reflection of a broader commitment to sustainability. Traditional cleaning methods often rely on harsh chemicals that can harm both the environment and our health. Eco cleaning, on the other hand, uses environmentally friendly products and techniques that minimize harmful impacts. This approach is particularly important in a city like London, where the high population density means that pollution and waste can quickly become significant issues.

Why Choose Eco Carpet Cleaning? Carpets are a common feature in many London homes, providing warmth and comfort. However, they can also trap dirt, allergens, and pollutants. Traditional carpet cleaning methods might remove these contaminants, but they often leave behind chemical residues that can be harmful. Eco carpet cleaning offers several benefits:

Healthier Home Environment: Eco-friendly cleaning products are free from toxic chemicals, reducing the risk of allergies and respiratory issues.

Sustainability: By using biodegradable and non-toxic cleaning solutions, eco carpet cleaners contribute to a healthier planet.

Effective Cleaning: Contrary to some misconceptions, eco-friendly cleaning can be just as effective, if not more so, than traditional methods. Advanced techniques and natural cleaning agents ensure deep cleaning without damaging the carpet fibers.

Eco Carpet Cleaning Services in London London boasts a variety of eco carpet cleaning services that cater to different needs. Whether you’re in Knightsbridge, Kensington, or Chelsea, you’ll find professionals committed to providing top-notch cleaning while adhering to green principles.

Knightsbridge Carpet Cleaning Knightsbridge, known for its luxury and sophistication, demands high standards, even when it comes to carpet cleaning. Eco carpet cleaners in Knightsbridge use state-of-the-art equipment and eco-friendly products to ensure your carpets are immaculate. These services focus on delivering excellent results while maintaining the elegance and integrity of your home’s interiors.

Kensington Carpet Cleaning Kensington, with its blend of historic charm and modern living, is another area where eco carpet cleaning is highly sought after. Professional cleaners in Kensington employ methods such as steam cleaning, which uses minimal water and no harsh chemicals, making it an excellent choice for eco-conscious residents. This method not only cleans effectively but also ensures that carpets dry quickly, reducing the risk of mold and mildew.

Chelsea Carpet Cleaners Chelsea, synonymous with chic and upscale living, also embraces the eco cleaning trend. Chelsea carpet cleaners offer services that cater to the unique needs of this vibrant community. They use plant-based cleaning solutions and advanced machinery to deliver thorough cleaning that leaves your carpets looking and feeling fresh.

Eco Rug Cleaning in London In addition to carpets, rugs also require special attention. Eco rug cleaning services in London are designed to handle a variety of rug types, from delicate Persian rugs to durable area rugs. These services use gentle, eco-friendly products that protect the fibers and colors of your rugs while ensuring they are free from dirt and allergens.

Benefits of Choosing Eco Carpet Cleaners Opting for eco carpet cleaners in London comes with numerous advantages:

Environmental Impact: Reduced use of water and chemicals means less waste and pollution.

Safe for Pets and Children: Eco-friendly cleaning products are safe for your entire family, including pets.

Longer-Lasting Carpets: Gentle cleaning methods extend the life of your carpets, preserving their appearance and functionality.

Allergen Reduction: Effective removal of dust mites, pet dander, and other allergens creates a healthier living environment.

How to Choose an Eco Carpet Cleaning Service When selecting an eco carpet cleaning service in London, consider the following factors:

Reputation: Look for companies with positive reviews and a track record of satisfied customers.

Certifications: Check if the company has certifications from reputable organizations that endorse eco-friendly practices.

Techniques and Products: Inquire about the cleaning methods and products used to ensure they align with your eco-friendly values.

Experience: Choose a service with experienced technicians who are knowledgeable about different types of carpets and the best eco cleaning methods for each.

Conclusion Eco carpet cleaning in London is more than just a service; it’s a commitment to a sustainable lifestyle. Whether you’re in Knightsbridge, Kensington, or Chelsea, there are plenty of options available to keep your carpets clean while protecting the environment. By choosing eco-friendly carpet cleaners, you’re not only ensuring a healthier home but also contributing to a greener planet. Make the switch to eco carpet cleaning today and experience the benefits of a cleaner, healthier, and more sustainable living space.

Contact Info: Eco Cleaning London Address: 89 Cadogan Place, London, United Kingdom Phone: 20 3598 6188 Email: ecocleaninglondon2010@gmail.com Website: http://www.ecocleaninglondon.co.uk/

[storiesundercandlelight]

In The Eyes Of Priwen - Chapter Two

Another chapter! Geoffrey and Evelyn have their first proper encounter! Also yes... I took so much inspo from Penny Dreadful I can't help it! Also I wont be sticking entirely to the lore of the game so if I veer off don't be surprised!!!

If Geoffrey hated London, he loathed the West End. Safe as it was he couldn't help but be irritated by each toff he walked past. The last couple had been particularly irritating in their snobby clothes and stupid try hard accents. But the idea of a paying job that put food on the table for his men kept him walking towards the address on the note he had received the night before.

The hour was late but there was a warm glow coming from inside the house as Geoffrey walked up the steps leading to the dark wood door. He took a moment, wondering if he really had it in him tonight to listen to whoever this woman was waffle on, but after hearing the way she spoke to Edgar in his office he was almost intrigued by her lack of socially required manners. His hand knocked on the door a few times but opened almost immediately. A dark skinned man stood looking at Geoffrey. "Mr McCullum I presume, we have been awaiting your arrival" A rich African accent welcome Geoffrey into the house.

The house itself was warm, a fire was burning in the living room adjacent to the hallway. Geoffrey's eyes flicked from the staircase leading upstairs to the Persian rug covering the floor, to the array of ornaments displayed on a sideboard, each from various cultures creating an eclectic feel. A movement had Geoffrey attention turning back towards the living room where Evelyn stood. She was wearing a long black cardigan wrapped and tied around her body, a slither of dark silk peaked out from the neckline, her feet were bare. Geoffrey wasn't sure what he was expecting, given the hour he supposed something comfier for her was reasonable but he'd never seen an upper class woman dress so casually or maybe he just didn't know toffs as well as he thought he did.

"Thank you for coming" Her voice was softer than it had been in Edgars office and Geoffrey took a second to notice how tired she looked. Edgar was right, she looked almost as tired as he did.

"Decided to ask for my help then?" Evelyn's eyes flicked cautiously to Sembene and a subtle nod had the man leaving through a door further down the hallway.

"Come in" She nodded her head in the direction of the living room, Geoffrey followed, feeling the warmth of the room as he rounded the sofa to sit on the closest side to him. "Would you like a drink?"

"No I'm grand"

"Alright" She sat down on the free side of the sofa, turning to face Geoffrey. He could see she was nervous, but by him or the situation he couldn't tell. "I suppose Edgar has told you his version of things"

"He did, that your brother was turned and attacked you" He saw Evelyn flinch at his words but her jaw was tight, like she was holding in anger.

"Edgar loves a story, especially when he deludes himself into thinking he's a vital part of it" Evelyn met Geoffrey's gaze, he wondered then what she was thinking as she let her eyes map out his face for a moment before speaking again. "My brother went missing as I'm sure you know, and he did come back changed. I was in here but over there" Geoffrey eyes followed Evelyn's gesture to the back of the living room where a sturdy desk covered in books was positions, bookshelves lined the walls behind it.

"He came in late, I'm not sure I can even remember the time but it was dark, the fire had almost burnt out. I turned and he was stood by the door, I knew it was him straight away but he was just stood there. Then I spoke his name and he turned.." Geoffrey watched as she paused taking a breath before continuing. "His eyes were, um, like an animal.. they reflected the light, like a bat maybe? He just stood there motionless and I walked over to him, stupidly in hind sight. He attacked me, I pulled away and the next thing I felt were claws ripping down my back, then I woke up at the hospital"

"Enter Edgar" Evelyn chuffed out a laugh but didn't quite allow her lips to pull up into a smile.

"Yes enter Edgar, it took a few days but eventually he came to me with his questions, I suspect he told you my brother needs to be found. That, that is what's safest for me"

"Aye something like that"

"He's lying. It wasn't until I was healed enough to home and continue as normal that he approached me again. I told him about Thomas, the way he looked, his eyes, his skin-"

"What was wrong with his skin?"

"It was like his veins had turned black, like a darkness was creeping it's way across his body and up his neck. Edgar became obsessed very quickly with the idea that he was a different kind of vampire, he wanted to employ you to capture him and bring him to the Brotherhood for them to... learn from him..." Here was the source of the anger she was keeping at bay, Geoffrey could see the signs, he knew more than anyone what it was like to hold it in.

"You can't give him over to them. I don't want him being experimented on. I want..." She paused looking towards the fire, the light of it flickering against her face as she took another breath. "I want you to find him, and put an end to what he's become"

"Do you have a photo of him? So I know who I'm looking for but also for me men? They're out on patrol more than I am, might be that they already found him" Evelyn nodded and reached behind her pulling a small photograph from a side table.

"I worry your men won't remember killing him if they kill so many each night"

"If he's different and... someone from the upper class, they'd remember" His eyes gazed over the photo of Thomas, they shared many of the same features, his eyes were the same, his hair cut in a harsh undercut but the same shade as Evelyn's.

"Better loot?" Geoffrey stiffened slightly before looking back up at Evelyn. She didn't look angry at the statement so he nodded. "Can I ask you something else? When you find him... I need to make sure he's gone" Geoffrey looked at her in confusion, it wasn't often that many people requested to see the bodies of leeches before they were burnt. "I haven't slept well since it happened... I keep thinking he's going to come back... I need to know it's over"

"You'll be the first to know" Clearly satisfied Evelyn nodded with a relieved sigh before getting up and walking to the desk, Geoffrey watched as she grabbed an envelope before returning back to him.

"Your payment, half now, half after. I hope it's sufficient" Geoffrey reached out, this had also never happened. Not that Priwen made it a habit of taking jobs, killing leeches was what they did anyway, but they were never paid. Sometimes if they'd saved someone they would be allowed to as Evelyn put it, loot the place...well they did that even if it wasn't offered. But as Geoffrey took the envelope he couldn't help the small ounce of excitement knowing he would be able to provide for his men, no matter how small a...

Geoffrey's eyebrows rose, this wasn't a small amount. If he rationed it the same as he did their current income it would last them weeks, and this was only half? His eyes flicked back up to Evelyn who watches him, waiting he realised for his approval. "This is.. a lot"

"I want to be kept in the loop, I'm paying for that as well as your services" Geoffrey nodded before tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his coat.

"You'll be kept informed" Evelyn smiled then. It wasn't a full smile by any rate, but it caught Geoffrey's attention. He found himself without being able to stop it, thinking about the woman stood in front of him. The way her hair fell, her eyes such a melancholy shade of blue, almost grey really, her lips... even in this tired state she was beautiful. Too beautiful for him, even without the difference in class.

"When will you come back?" Geoffrey realised he'd been staring, if he were younger he would have blushed.

"I'll talk to me men, once I know if he's still out there or not I'll let you know. I'll see if I can spare a man to come watch the house in case he returns" The weight coming off Evelyn's shoulders was practically visible as she relaxed. It wasn't the norm for Geoffrey to be this accommodating but with the payment and...well...he felt better knowing Evelyn might sleep if she knows someone is watching over the house, he felt obligated to make the offer.

"Thank you Geoffrey"

---------------------------------------------

The way his name sounded coming from her lips was not something Geoffrey had anticipated thinking about on his way back to Priwen. More than once had he caught himself lost in thought, thinking back to their meeting. Thinking back to not even the meeting itself just the way Evelyn had looked, the way she had sat so defeated on the sofa beside him, he thought about the scent of her perfume, he hadn't given it much thought while he was there but here he was thinking about the sweetness of it as he walked down the damp streets of London.

God what a fool. He rolled his eyes, he hadn't thought about a girl like this since he was younger....a fair bit younger. Geoffrey didn't have time for women, Carl saw to that. He was kept busy, training to take over as Priwen's leader, Carl had always drilled it into him that there was no time for distractions. God the first time he'd been intimate with a girl was his eighteenth birthday, Carl had given him a handful of coins and an hour. Since then there had been few occasions to relieve that somewhat forgotten need, and he never thought about any of them after.

But even now walking past the two of his men who stood watch at the doors of the shithole they were squatting in he couldn't stop his stupid mind from going back to her.

He found Philip quicky, telling the Scot to grab whoever was here for a meeting. He knew Bennett was here but the others he couldn't remember if they'd been sent out or not, bloody epidemic was causing chaos with the rotas.

The makeshift meeting room was not the worse they'd had but still, a questionable table was placed in the centre of the room covered in a worn map of the city and papers, which was only big enough for the main guards of Priwen to occupy with no chairs, a few crates were stacked in the corner and a unused and filthy fireplace was behind were Geoffrey usually stood. It wasn't much but at least the roof didn't leak like the last place.

Philip walked in with the few men Geoffrey had allocated as the heads of each patrol group, Bennett like he expected walked through the door, he was younger than Geoffrey and Philip, in his early twenties but Geoffrey trusted him all the same. He'd proved himself loyal to Priwen and had a decent head on him. The rest piled in behind him, five in total not including Geoffrey.

He pulled out the photo first and placed it on the table for the men to look at. "Seen this one out on your rounds?" They all took a look at the photo each of them in turn shaking their heads. "The note from yesterday mentioning a job is concerning this lad, he's been turned, his sister wants him hunted down and killed"

"Bit brutal for a family member to request a hunt" Bennett spoke up, his cockney accent reminded Geoffrey of the young boy who had approached them at the bar the night before.

"He attacked her so... she's aware the brother she knew is no longer here" The men nodded in understanding.

"This who you went to see in the west end?"

"Aye, she's paid us well to get it done and keep her informed so take the photo and check with your groups that no ones already put him down"

"How well? Can we expect a better order this week? I know the local butcher keeps back what doesn't sell but we barely made enough to cover it last week" Bennett was good with the money Geoffrey allocated for food, he'd haggled on more than one occasion with the locals to get better deals for them, but even then Geoffrey knew it wasn't always a reliable tactic.

"Aye we can compensate him better this week for keeping the cuts for us. But don't go mad" Bennett nodded. "I want reports back after you've spoken to everyone and when you find him... let me know straight away. She wants clear confirmation it's been dealt with and find a spare lad to go and watch the house"

Geoffrey dismissed them quickly after that but Philip lingered behind as he always does. He'd been part of Priwen longer than Geoffrey, the older man was reaching twenty when Geoffrey was recruited after Carl saved him from his father. Geoffrey had suspected he would be against Geoffrey's taking over of leadership when Carl passed but Philip was more loyal than the rest. He was Geoffrey's closest.

"So..this west end lass...she's overpaid if anything, especially if this is only the first payment"

"I didn't argue with her on it"

"Cannae blame you, we'll eat well this month!" Geoffrey could feel Philips eyes on him, he turned to face the older man. "You're going to a lot of effort to keep her happy, placing a lad outside the house and all"

"Like you said, she paid well"

"Aye she paid well..." Geoffrey's brow cocked up at Philips smirk, the older man walked casually out of the room, leaving Geoffrey alone with his thoughts. He had planned to go over reports and routes for each scouting group to take based on the levels of violence in the areas, a solid plan for the rest of the night. But yet again on more than one occasion did Geoffrey find his mind drifting back to Evelyn.

A knock against the door frame had him almost jumping out of his thoughts, his eyes narrowed on Bennett. "Sorry to bother ya, no one's seen the bloke"

"Alright, we can start looking then"

"Yeah...there has been an attack though, think you might want to come see this one" Geoffrey sighed, so much for a night in with his paperwork.

"Lead the way"

[studioahead]

Curator Spotlight: Natasha Boas

We’re ringing in the new year with a firecracker: one of our most hilarious, crazy features ever, an interview with Natasha Boas, whose sparkling wit is matched only by her taste in literature and chairs. You’ll have to read below to understand, but we’ll say now that this is a woman who was once Jacques Derrida's student and sat on his kitchen chairs in his apartment in Paris. A conversation with Boas, an independent scholar and curator (and thinker), had us traipsing all over the noosphere and our own backyard in San Francisco, where she became our tour guide to the hidden currents of a city we thought we knew well.

Studio AHEAD: In your home you have several towers of precariously stacked books. We’re going to name a few and would like you tell us the perfect chair/sofa/magic carpet on which to read them:

La honte (Annie Ernaux)

Natasha Boas: I have always been a huge fan of Ernaux’s and have read everything she has written in French, and then in 2022 she received the Nobel Prize in Literature so her novels are finally more available in English. La honte is about the shame a young woman experiences about her childhood and the woman she becomes. It’s autofiction, one of my favorite genres. I think I would suggest reading La honte on any Madame Récamier daybed—perhaps specifically on my antique nineteenth-century French iron folding bed. I grew up with it as my childhood bed and it has tiny wheels—when we once had an earthquake in San Francisco in the 1970s, I remember waking up having rolled across by bedroom from the garden corner to my fireplace.

SA: Specters of Marx (Jacques Derrida)

NB: For Derrida, the spirit or “ghost” of Marx was even more relevant after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. This essay was the plenary address of "Whither Marxism?," a conference on the future of Marxism held at the University of California, Riverside in 1993. Derrida was my professor in Paris and a very modest man who would have wanted us to read his book on a simple kitchen chair—perhaps a Charlotte Perriand Bausch chair from the 50s that came secondhand with his humble apartment—where the caning is damaged and used and it is broken and somewhat imbalanced.

SA: Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality (Sigmund Freud)

NB: This book contains the iconic essay in which Freud reveals his famous Oedipal theory among other things. It should be read in your mother’s lap—haha! No, it should be read on Freud’s divan couch of course! It may be the most famous couch in history and can be admired in Freud’s study in London at The Freud Museum at 20 Maresfield Gardens in the Hampstead neighborhood. The term “on the couch” became the euphemism for what psychiatrists do because of this very couch shaped like a chaise long with a Persian rug laid over it. Of course, I contributed to a fundraiser launched in 2013 to help reupholster the legendary couch. It seemed very important to me at the time.

SA: Leonora Carrington: The Story of the Last Egg (Leonora Carrington)

NB: This book is the accompanying catalogue to Gallery Wendi Norris’s 2019 exhibition of the same name in New York City. In addition to the show, the gallery hosted a two-day symposium on Carrington. It began with a dramatic reading of Leonora's play, titled Opus Siniestrus: The Story of the Last Egg, which in many ways predicts the dystopian situation of women’s reproductive rights today. My talk “The Leonora Carrington Effect: What We Can Learn from Leonora Carrington Today” became an essay for the book.

These ideas on the relevance of Carrington today resonated a year later at the Venice Biennale “Milk of Dreams” with its focus on Carrington and other historic Surrealist women artists. I wrote my dissertation years ago on this seminal modernist movement in art, which continues to influence my work. Currently, I have curated the exhibition on the post-Surrealist Gertrud Parker: The Possible at Marin MOCA, which includes Leonora Carrington, Leonor Fini, Alice Rahon and other influential Surrealist women. It is up through March 31 and I highly recommend a visit. It also features the famous Dynaton artists Luchita Hurtado, Wolfgang Paalen, and Gordon Onslow Ford, who convened in Inverness in west Marin County last century.

I think I would read The Story of the Egg on the bed that the Surrealist artist Max Ernst made for his wife, the artist Dorothea Tanning. It is said that she hated the bed and hid it out of view in the basement of their Provence house, but it is currently being shown on the top floor at a small regional Max Ernst museum in Seillans, near my family house in the Var, Cote d’Azur region. It’s a bizarre six-post structure with a mirror, green metal leaves, a faux brown fur bedspread and several circular paintings attached to it—but seems like the perfect bed for lounging on to read this provocative book.

SA: You are an expert on countercultures and in particular the Mission School. Is there anything you have learned from them—whether related to art or not—that you apply to how you interact, live in, go about San Francisco? This is of course a movement whose members reimagined what was around them.

NB: Yes, I have always been drawn to countercultures, alternative art movements, and under-recognized artists. What drew me to the Mission School artists was that it was an “affective” community—one based on shared sensitivities, a shared neighborhood, and friendships. Graffiti, studio painting and the San Francisco Art Institute were touch points for the group. In many ways I see this group of artists as a continuation of another SFAI group, the Rat Bastards Protective Association with Jay deFeo, Bruce and Jean Conner, Manuel Neri, and others. In fact, Ruby Neri, Manuel’s daughter, who was raised in Inverness and educated at SFAI, literally connects the two movements. I learned that there can be a correlation between street art and studio practice through her, Barry McGee, Alicia McCarthy, Chris Johanson, and Margaret Kilgallen.

These artists were not precious, they used simple materials often culled from garbage found in the city and they always included their friends’ work in their exhibitions, and they still do. That is very much the “Bay Way” of making art. It has influenced my way of curating too. I am not afraid of the heteroclitic or telling new stories. I just curated a show this fall: “Old Friends/New Friends” at Creativity Explored, which is a studio that supports neurodiverse artists or what we used to refer to in art history as “outsider artists” and the expanded Mission school artist community.

I grew up in SF in the 1970s. I even lived at the now defunct radical artist colony The Farm founded by the conceptual artist Bonnie Ora Sherk under what was then Army Street overpass and now Cesar Chavez. I worked at the Café Trieste in North Beach as a barista and served the likes of Allen Ginsburg. I read my poetry at City Lights Book Store and saw the Dead Kennedys perform at The Mabuhay Gardens. We were around when Harvey Milk was assassinated and when SFMOMA was on the fourth floor of the War Memorial Veterans building on Van Ness Avenue. This group of Mission School artists are my generation. We vibe on the same San Francisco history.

SA: I am curious as to what happens in your curation when you bring institutional outsiders inside the institution. Perhaps nothing happens. Perhaps it changes everything. Perhaps it ruins everything.

NB: In my experience—magic happens. But I have always taken risks—like bringing a trailer, which I bought with the Indigenous artist Brad Kahlhamer at an Arizona swap meet for a hundred dollars, into a museum gallery to create a nomadic studio space. We had to fumigate the trailer to make it museum compliant and we built out a proscenium so we could also use it as a stage for local Native performances. The exhibition was appropriately entitled SWAP MEET and played on all the valences of cultural exchange.

SA: You speak so much about San Francisco’s history, and so much has changed, that I wonder if counterculture is still possible in this city? 

NB: Yes—it is always possible especially in our city with its cyclical history of boom and bust! There is always some kind of counterculture operating. We just need to ask “which culture is counterculture countering?” and then we can identify it. And we should always be brave enough to counter culture through the sub, the underground, the transversal. I just participated in a show at the Palais de Tokyo in Paris called The Termite Bites and it looked at artists who are practicing—literally and figuratively—below ground.

SA: We always ask the person interviewed how they came to California. We’ll pose this question to you with a twist. How did you come to California? And can you trace the history of how one piece of artwork that you own came into your possession here in California?

NB: My family came to SF from France in the late 1960s as part of a larger movement of young people seeking alternative lifestyles and new ideas—I was raised in a vibrant multicultural city and went to a French lycée and roamed freely around town on Muni. Later, I moved east for college and then lived and worked as a curator and professor in New York and Paris for over 20 years, when I returned back to the Bay to raise my family.

Most of my collection is from artists I have worked closely with over the years in all three places—either gifted or swapped. I am particularly attached to an Etel Adnan (1925-2021) Mount Tamalpais artwork I have from my time working with her in Paris. Adnan—who was born in Beirut, Lebanon, died in Paris, and lived an important part of her life with her life companion, the artist Simone Fattal in Sausalito—is a transnational link for me between my two homes and two cultures—in her case three cultures. Her poems and drawings in the book Journey to Mount Tamalpais speak to me the most; it has been re-edited recently by my friend Omar Berrada.

SA: Lastly, in the spirit of Guy Debord and the Situationists, if you were doing a dérive-style walk around San Francisco, where might it take you?

NB: My dérive would always lead me back to the Lyon street steps at Broadway. My friend Marc Zegans just published a book of poems about this important passage way in the city. Our SF was more of a village, pre-tech booms. I grew up and went to high school in Presidio Heights. It was very sleepy. We lived on those steps as teens, overlooking the bridge. We had our first kisses there, smoked our first joints, played the guitar, the city was ours.

Photos by Ekaterina Izmestieva

[samsinghhinwick]

What to Expect from Hinwick House?

Hinwick House has been an exclusive family residence for the last 300 years. Recently renovated through the hard work, this takes account of Queen Anne Main House is spread over more than three floors with more than twenty bedrooms. Guests also have access to two clean lakes, tennis courts, a deer park, and the seventeenth-century clocktower.

At this point, more than 300 years after its construction, Hinwick House stays many of its original features, dating back to its first construction. While the estate remains a family home, many features of the estate and house now need special care and preservation.

The family, which owns the estate today, believes they are the current custodians of a fantastic piece of London’s incredible heritage. Therefore, it must be preserved with care so that future generations might derive the same happiness from its beauty.

The estate has recently been in a two-year sympathetic repair and restoration program. This was made possible because of Sam Singh. More than 120 skilled artisans and craftsmen worked daily to affectionately bring back the house to the height of its formal glory.

The valuable antiques and works of art connected with the estate have been traced to collections worldwide, re-purchased, and brought back to their original place at the house. Hinwick House has the biggest collection of antique Persian rugs, with more than 150 priceless rugs decorating the property.

Facilities

Dining for more than 100 people in the house

Fibre Optic Broadband Wi-Fi

Lots of space for a big marquee to hold events and weddings ( at special prices)

Two bars

Games room with swimming pool table and board games

50” TV in Snug

Games consoles

Working fireplaces

Several hobs and ovens

Four dishwashers

Several large fridges/freezers

Microwave, kettle, toaster

BBQ

Two lakes with rowing boat

Extra bed for a child is available upon request

Large parking area

Croquet set

Tennis court

Guest Access

Guests can take pleasure in the artifacts as well as the activities which the estate has to offer. Visitors can enjoy the outdoor facilities of a tennis court, deer park, trekking, barbeque, pond area, and croquet. Clay pigeon shooting can also be organized by the guest straight through the preferred supplier, besides being able to manage other outdoor activities.

[awesomehoggirl]

3 and 6 ^__^

3. what do you order at a cafe?

if they have syrups salted caramel or similarly sweet latteeeee or a mocha if its cold :) i love my coffee tooth rottingly sweet

6. what does your dream home look like?

ohhh high ceilings are a must!!!!!!! i love tall windows. if i had a million bux and this is a proper fantasy scenario... a london townhouse on a street lined with trees. not too big at all but yknow high ceilings, very white walls and dark wooden floors, persian rugs, lots of plants especially areca palms, lots of art, nothing left entirely plain, a tiny little garden with a patio and no lawn just tall grasses. artfully cluttered... colourful but in a dusty slightly muted way... ceramic pots and cream sheets and little cat motifs everywhere. hoorayyy

[jonfarreporter]

A Persian Carpet is A Sustainable Carpet

In our increasingly ubiquitous disposable-item high tech culture, a Persian rug seems like an out-of-place antique. Yet for the “sustainability-conscious” a Persian carpet is not just a treasure it’s an investment.

“You are buying more than just a rug, said Ataullah Khoja, you are buying a work of art alive with the stories of the region and the people who make them.”

Khoja was in town during the past weekend of Sept 15 at the Sonoma Valley Women’s Club on First Street, East selling dozens of some of the most opulent Persian rugs available.

Owner of Access Rugs - Hand-knotted Rugs, Inc. of Berkeley, Khoja explained. “family owned and operated business. For the past 22 years, we have been collecting a wide variety of hand-made rugs, from Central Asia.

“All of our products are hand-made and authentic. And, each has it’s own cultural value,” said Khoja.

The main entrance as well as the reception hall of SVWC was filled with some of the most exquisitely made rugs.

“It is our desire to help promote and preserve our cultural heritage, said Khoja as he ignored a call on his cell phone to answer a few questions as The Sonoma Index-Tribune stopped by on Monday to take a look. Even the porch outside the Women’s Club was covered with Persian rugs; passersby couldn’t miss it.

Operating as a direct rug importer and rug supplier, Khoja and his family-owned company has had the privilege of working with many businesses across the country. In addition to providing his customers/clients with exceptional hand made rugs, Khoja also provides rug services.

And that includes rug cleaning and rug repair. “It has been an important part of our operation,” said Khoja.

Emphasizing the “investment” aspect to a Persian rug as art, according to James Barclay of London, who also deals with Persian rugs, it’s value is in the craftsmanship and authenticity. As he and his team notes the appeal of Persian rugs the world over, Barclay said.

“As rug specialists, our business here in London is built upon traditional methods of hand cleaning and hand repairing fine and antique rugs, carpets and tapestries as well as carefully sourced products that are akin to the original materials used when your rug was made.”

“This not only retains the authenticity (even with imperfections) of your rug, said Barclay but also assist the rug to keep it’s value, look and feel from when it was originally made.”

Pointing out the longevity of Persian Rugs, the BBC reported in 2017 that the ‘Pazyryk carpet’ discovered in Siberia in the 1920s is the earliest example of one of the oldest Persian carpets, dating as far back as the 5th Century BC.

With Sonoma being able to produce some of the most delicious wines, a Persian carpet in a tasting room would certainly be a nice addition with considerable cache and panache for the status-conscious.

Yet as Khoja said enthusiastically of his business and company. “We will continue to be that source of knowledge and education from that part of the world, with it’s rich history and culture.”

Buying a Persian carpet from Khoja is making a connection to skilled artists, craftsman and artisans that make works of art that will last beyond one’s lifetime. If that isn’t sustainability at its best, what else is?

“Today, Monday is our last day here in Sonoma until next year” Khoja said. “But I invite anyone who wants to know about Persian rugs to visit me and my shop in Berkeley,” he said.

To learn more about Persian rugs or to find out when Khoja will return to Sonoma, visit his company’s website.

[belladonna-wright]

From The Independent Online, 10th September 2024...

By Nathaniel Percy Cavendish

Arts & Culture, The Independent Online.

Curators at the National Gallery, London, have been left baffled today by the surprise delivery of what could be a lost Caravaggio masterpiece on their doorstep. An official statement, released by the gallery, has claimed that a large canvas was delivered anonymously to the gallery in the early hours of Tuesday morning, rolled up in an antique Persian rug. Efforts are underway to try and trace the sender, but nobody has yet claimed responsibility for this astonishing discovery...

Read the full story below.

The artwork appears to be the lost Caravaggio masterpiece ‘Nativity with Saint Francis and Saint Lawrence,’ painted in 1609 and originally hung in the Oratorio of Saint Lawrence in Palermo, Sicily. “At this time, we have no idea of the provenance of this artwork and whether it is the genuine article, or simply a well-executed hoax,” warns the Gallery spokesperson, Niall Peters-Corbyn. “The original artwork’s location has been unknown for half a century, and in honesty it was assumed it had been destroyed. There will have to be extensive and rigorous testing before any decisions can be made on whether the painting is genuine or not.” 

Caravaggio’s Nativity scene made ripples around the art world when it was stolen from its original location in 1969, when it was cut from its frame and is believed to have been smuggled out of the church wrapped in a carpet. Ties to the Sicilian Mafia have long surrounded the case, and the painting has never been traced. Some theories suggested that the painting was sold to a private collector via the black market, others that it was destroyed due to improper storage by animals, or that it perished as a result of the 1980 Irpina earthquake which affected much of Southern Italy. 

The original artwork was replaced in 2015 by a technologically generated replica following an extensive research process. 

The missing artwork was estimated to hold a value of up to £20 million, although its black market value would have been considerably lower. It is unclear, therefore, why someone would choose to return the artwork now, if it is indeed the genuine article. A fit of delayed remorse, perhaps? 

The artwork that has been delivered will now undergo a rigorous testing process, beginning with a thorough cleaning, during which the canvas and paint will be scientifically analysed to establish whether they are modern reproductions or of the correct period. X-Ray technology will also be used to examine the canvas and whether any other paintings underlie the exterior paintwork. Should the painting pass this test, experts on the work of Caravaggio will be consulted to examine the painting and its brushstrokes to try and consider whether this is indeed the lost painting or simply a replica. 

Should the painting be authenticated, there will no doubt be a strong claim for its return to Palermo. 

“That’s another layer to this puzzle,” Peters-Corbyn admits (clearly as baffled and intrigued as this reporter), “Why has it been brought to us? With an anonymous donor nobody can claim a reward for its return if it does prove to be genuine, and the National Gallery has no historic links with the painting. This will be a long road, no doubt, but I know our conservators are excited to get cracking.”

Expect this story to take a long time to unfold. But for now, we can question the motives of this mystery donor. Do they wish to return a genuine masterpiece to the public domain? Or is this a challenge to the authenticators at the National Gallery? Some on social media are already suggesting this is a performance piece by the artist Banksy, who is yet to make a comment on these allegations. 

Coverage of this story will continue when available…

[ @wilde-fun ]

[vipcarpetcleaninglondon]

The Ultimate Guide to Cleaning Persian Rug at Home

Persian rugs are known for their textural designs. And the odds of dirt build-up are more predominant in Persian carpets (if it is not cleaned right). This means you will have to follow the right procedure for Persian rug cleaning near me.

[cleanercarpetslondon]

Cleaner Carpets London: Top Services for a Pristine Home and Office

Maintaining clean carpets and rugs is essential for creating a healthy and welcoming environment in both homes and offices. In a bustling city like London, finding reliable and professional carpet cleaning services can be a challenge. Fortunately, there are numerous experts specializing in various aspects of carpet and upholstery cleaning. This article will guide you through the best options for cleaner carpets in London, focusing on key services and areas.

Cleaner Carpets London: Professional Services You Can Rely On

Keeping your carpets clean in London requires the expertise of professionals who understand the city's unique environment. Cleaner carpets London services offer a range of solutions tailored to meet your specific needs. From deep cleaning to routine maintenance, these experts use advanced equipment and eco-friendly products to ensure your carpets remain fresh and hygienic.

London Rug Cleaners: Preserving the Beauty of Your Rugs

Rugs, especially valuable ones like Persian and Oriental, require special care. London rug cleaners are skilled in handling all types of rugs, using gentle yet effective methods to clean and preserve them. These professionals understand the intricacies of different fabrics and employ techniques that maintain the rug’s original beauty while removing dirt and stains.

Rug Cleaning in London: Comprehensive Care for Your Rugs

Rug cleaning in London involves more than just removing surface dirt. It includes deep cleaning, stain removal, and even repair services to ensure your rugs look their best. Many companies offer convenient pick-up and delivery services, making the process hassle-free. Additionally, the use of eco-friendly cleaning solutions ensures the safety of your family and pets while effectively cleaning your rugs.

Carpet Cleaners West London: Local Expertise for Your Carpets

West London boasts numerous carpet cleaning professionals who understand the specific needs of the area’s residents. Carpet cleaners West London specialize in various cleaning methods, including steam cleaning, dry cleaning, and hot water extraction. These techniques effectively remove embedded dirt, allergens, and tough stains, leaving your carpets looking and smelling fresh. Whether you need a one-time deep clean or regular maintenance, these local experts offer flexible solutions to suit your schedule and budget.

Commercial Carpet Cleaners London: Keeping Business Spaces Pristine

For businesses, maintaining clean carpets is crucial for creating a professional and welcoming atmosphere. Commercial carpet cleaners London specialize in large-scale cleaning projects, catering to offices, hotels, restaurants, and other commercial spaces. These professionals use industrial-grade equipment and techniques to ensure thorough cleaning with minimal disruption to your operations. Regular maintenance plans are also available, helping businesses keep their carpets in top condition throughout the year.

Upholstery Cleaners: Extending the Life of Your Furniture

In addition to carpets and rugs, many London cleaning companies offer upholstery cleaning services. Upholstery cleaners are experts in revitalizing furniture, removing stains, and extending the life of your upholstery. Using advanced cleaning solutions and techniques, they can handle a variety of fabrics, from leather to microfiber. Regular upholstery cleaning not only enhances the appearance of your furniture but also improves indoor air quality by eliminating dust and allergens.

Choosing the Right Cleaning Service

When selecting a carpet or upholstery cleaning service in London, consider factors such as customer reviews, certifications, and guarantees. Look for companies with transparent pricing and a commitment to customer satisfaction. Additionally, inquire about the cleaning methods and products used to ensure they meet your preferences and environmental standards.

Conclusion

Maintaining clean carpets, rugs, and upholstery is essential for a healthy and inviting home or office. In London, numerous professional cleaners offer specialized services to meet diverse needs. From expert rug cleaning to comprehensive commercial carpet care, these professionals ensure your spaces remain pristine. By choosing the right service, you can enjoy the benefits of cleaner carpets and upholstery, enhancing the overall comfort and aesthetic of your environment.

Source Url : https://cleanercarpetslondon.blogspot.com/2024/06/the-ultimate-guide-to-quality-curtain.html

[lansolot]

tumblr made me mad so its going in your inbox instead

The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.

From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as usual. innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-colored blossoms of the laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flame-like as theirs; and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window, producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, and making him think of those pallid jade-faced painters who, in an art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion. The sullen murmur of the bees shouldering their way through the long unmown grass, or circling with monotonous insistence round the black-crocketed spires of the early June hollyhocks, seemed to make the stillness more oppressive, and the dim roar of London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ.

In the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stood the full-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty, and in front of it, some little distance away, was sitting the artist himself, Basil Hallward, whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused, at the time, such public excitement, and gave rise to so many strange conjectures.

As he looked at the gracious and comely form he had so skilfully mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across his face, and seemed about to linger there. But he suddenly started up, and, closing [4] his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids, as though he sought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which he feared he might awake.

"It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done," said Lord Henry, languidly. "You must certainly send it next year to the Grosvenor. The Academy is too large and too vulgar. The Grosvenor is the only place."

"I don't think I will send it anywhere," he answered, tossing his head back in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford. "No: I won't send it anywhere."

Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows, and looked at him in amazement through the thin blue wreaths of smoke that curled up in such fanciful whorls from his heavy opium-tainted cigarette. "Not send it anywhere? My dear fellow, why? Have you any reason? What odd chaps you painters are! You do anything in the world to gain a reputation. As soon as you have one, you seem to want to throw it away. It is silly of you, for there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about. A portrait like this would set you far above all the young men in England, and make the old men quite jealous, if old men are ever capable of any emotion."

"I know you will laugh at me," he replied, "but I really can't exhibit it. I have put too much of myself into it."

Lord Henry stretched his long legs out on the divan and shook with laughter.

"Yes, I knew you would laugh; but it is quite true, all the same."

"Too much of yourself in it! Upon my word, Basil, I didn't know you were so vain; and I really can't see any resemblance between you, with your rugged strong face and your coal-black hair, and this young Adonis, who looks as if he was made of ivory and rose-leaves. Why, my dear Basil, he is a Narcissus, and you--well, of course you have an intellectual expression, and all that. But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself an exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid. Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. How perfectly hideous they are! Except, of course, in the Church. But then in the Church they don't think. A bishop keeps on saying at the age of eighty what he was told to say when he was a boy of eighteen, and consequently he always looks absolutely delightful. Your mysterious young friend, whose name you have never told me, but whose picture really fascinates me, never thinks. I feel quite sure of that. He is a brainless, beautiful thing, who should be always here in winter when we have no flowers to look at, and always here in summer when we want something to chill our intelligence. Don't flatter yourself,

Basil: you are not in the least like him.'

"You don't understand me, Harry. Of course I am not like him. I know that perfectly well. Indeed, I should be sorry to look like him. You shrug your shoulders? I am telling you the truth. There is a fatality about all physical and intellectual distinction, the sort of fatality that [5] seems to dog through history the faltering steps of kings. It is better not to be different from one's fellows. The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit quietly and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They live as we all should live, undisturbed, indifferent, and without disquiet. They neither bring ruin upon others nor ever receive it from alien hands. Your rank and wealth, Harry; my brains, such as they are,--my fame, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray's good looks,--we will all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly."

"Dorian Gray? is that his name?" said Lord Henry, walking across the studio towards Basil Hallward.

"Yes; that is his name. I didn't intend to tell it to you."

"But why not?"

"Oh, I can't explain. When I like people immensely I never tell their names to any one. It seems like surrendering a part of them. You know how I love secrecy. It is the only thing that can make modern life wonderful or mysterious to us. The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it.

When I leave town I never tell my people where I am going. If I did, I would lose all my pleasure. It is a silly habit, I dare say, but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance into one's life. I suppose you think me awfully foolish about it?"

"Not at all," answered Lord Henry, laying his hand upon his shoulder; "not at all, my dear Basil.

You seem to forget that I am married, and the one charm of marriage is that it makes a life of deception necessary for both parties. I never know where my wife is, and my wife never knows what I am doing. When we meet,--we do meet occasionally, when we dine out together, or go

LMAO, THANK YOU SIR 🩷

[carpetsclinic1]

Top Handmade Rug Cleaning Services in the UK

Handmade rugs are a beautiful and valuable addition to any home, but they require special care and attention when it comes to cleaning. If you have a handmade rug that is in need of a deep clean, it's important to find a reputable and experienced rug cleaning service. Here are some of the top handmade rug cleaning services in the UK:

Rug Wash London: Rug Wash London is a highly recommended rug cleaning service that specializes in handmade and Oriental rugs. They use gentle yet effective cleaning techniques to ensure that your rug is cleaned thoroughly without causing any damage to the delicate fibers. With years of experience in the industry, Rug Wash London is a trusted choice for handmade rug cleaning.

The Persian Rug Cleaning Company: The Persian Rug Cleaning Company is another top choice for handmade rug cleaning in the UK. They offer a range of cleaning services specifically tailored to handmade rugs, including hand washing and deep cleaning treatments. Their team of skilled technicians is trained to handle even the most delicate rugs with care and precision.

The Rug Laundry: The Rug Laundry is a boutique rug cleaning service that specializes in handmade and luxury rugs. They offer a range of cleaning options, including traditional hand washing techniques and eco-friendly cleaning solutions. The Rug Laundry is known for their attention to detail and commitment to providing high-quality cleaning services for handmade rugs.

The Carpet Clinic: The Carpet Clinic is a family-owned rug cleaning service that has been in business for over 30 years. They have extensive experience in cleaning all types of rugs, including handmade and antique rugs. The Carpet Clinic offers a personalized approach to cleaning, ensuring that each rug receives the individualized care it needs to look its best.

The Rug Company: The Rug Company is a well-known and respected rug cleaning service in the UK. They have a team of expert cleaners who are trained in the latest cleaning techniques for handmade rugs. The Rug Company uses environmentally friendly cleaning products and methods to ensure that your rug is cleaned safely and effectively.

When it comes to cleaning handmade rugs, it's important to choose a service that has the experience and expertise to handle the job properly. By choosing one of the top handmade rug cleaning services in the UK, you can rest assured that your precious rug will be cleaned to the highest standards and returned to you in perfect condition.

[xtruss]

Spring Cleaning Has Ancient Origins. Here’s Why We Still Do It.

While the specific customs and practices may vary across cultures, the underlying themes of purification, preparation for new beginnings, and the celebration of spring’s arrival remain central to this enduring tradition.

— By Lola Méndez | March 19, 2024

A man washes a rug the day before Nowruz or the Persian New Year, near Kohna Deh village in Afghanistan. Known as khāne-takānī, this spring-cleaning ritual keeps evil away, so people can bring fresh, new energy into their new year. Photograph By Kiana Hayeri, National Geographic Image Collection

As the Northern Hemisphere ushers in the new season, a contagious urge to dust off cobwebs and toss out clutter emerges. Spring cleaning, a deep cleanse of one’s home, is a tradition ingrained in societies worldwide, with roots tracing back to ancient times.

It also holds symbolic significance. Viewed as a fresh start, the tradition symbolizes the transition from the dormant winter season to the vibrant growth of spring. By purging the home of accumulated debris and organizing its contents, individuals create a cleaner living environment and a sense of mental clarity and freshness.

“With each sweep of the broom and polish of the surface, we honor a tradition that transcends time, uniting us with generations past in a shared pursuit of renewal and rejuvenation,” says Danielle Patten, director of creative programs and collections at the Museum of the Home in London.

Benefits of Spring Cleaning

Human behavior is greatly influenced by the cycles of nature. In the colder months, we have less energy to spare for chores such as deep cleaning. We’re not being lazy; limited daylight triggers the hormone melatonin, which makes us sleepy.

“Melatonin causes us to feel less inclined to refresh our space. When the seasons start to shift, feelings of sluggishness reduce, and we regain energy and feel inspired to deep clean our living environments,” says author and psychotherapist Eloise Skinner. “When we refresh our environments, we can feel a sense of new beginning, or a renewed sense of drive and ambition.”

Studies have also shown that cleaning can be therapeutic, as seen by the new generation of “cleanfluencers” taking social media by storm. Millions of people watch them scour filthy homes and dole out cleaning hacks.

“When we’re cleaning, we often have to be present to the task at hand, and this can bring us into the present moment causing us to feel more aware, engaged and observant. The repetitive nature can also be soothing,” Skinner says.

Religious and Cultural Origins

One of the earliest known references to spring cleaning is found in the Jewish tradition of Passover, which is observed annually in March or April. People remove all traces of chametz or leavened bread, which is prohibited leading up to the holiday. Its removal symbolizes the haste with which the Israelites fled Egypt, unable to wait for their bread to rise before their journey to freedom.

Similarly, Catholics clean altars in churches on Maundy Thursday ahead of Good Friday, which is held annually in the spring in March or April. Nowruz, celebrated around the vernal equinox in March, involves the tradition called khāne-takānī or “shaking down the house.” People wash clothes, blankets, and textiles in preparation for this approximately 3,000-year-old holiday—which can be traced back to Zoroastrianism, one of the world’s first monotheistic religions.

Before the Lunar New Year, it’s common to cleanse the home of bad luck and misfortune in China. Known as “sweeping the dust,” cleaning makes way for the new year’s good luck and prosperity, says Patten. Cleaning must be done before the holiday, typically in January or February, since sweeping after the festivities is seen as removing good luck. In Thailand, during Songkran in April, it’s customary to deep clean homes, schools, and public spaces to purify them ahead of the Thai New Year. People toss water at each other in the streets to wash away the previous year’s bad luck and over statues of Buddha to ensure luck for the year to come.

While the concept of spring cleaning predates modern technology, advancements such as electricity and household appliances have influenced its practice. For example, before electric lights, people relied on fire from burning coal, oil, and wood to light and heat homes, which would leave behind a substantial amount of soot. Windows were kept securely closed to prevent a deadly draft from entering.

Come spring, it was pragmatic to open the windows to air out stuffy homes, remove grime, and repair any damages that occurred during the winter months. Inventions such as vacuum cleaners, washing machines, and cleaning agents have made the process more efficient and convenient, allowing for deeper and more thorough cleaning of living spaces.

[leonnorelluk]

Ultimate Guide To Buy Handmade Rugs Online UK

In the era of digital convenience, the quest for enhancing our living spaces has seamlessly transitioned into the virtual realm. When it comes to elevating the aesthetics of your home, handcrafted elegance in the form of handmade rugs takes center stage. This comprehensive guide unveils the intricacies of buy handmade rugs online UK, with a spotlight on the renowned brand, LEON NORELL.

Navigating the Online Landscape:

The vast digital marketplace offers an array of options at your fingertips, making the quest for the ideal handmade rug a seemingly endless journey. This guide simplifies the process, shedding light on reliable online platforms showcasing a diverse collection of handmade rugs. Among them, LEON NORELL emerges as a distinguished destination, offering a virtual trove of luxurious and meticulously crafted rugs.

Understanding Your Aesthetic:

Before immersing yourself in the online shopping experience, defining your aesthetic preferences is paramount. Handmade rugs boast various styles, ranging from traditional Persian motifs to contemporary designs. LEON NORELL, a brand synonymous with quality, caters to a spectrum of tastes, ensuring each rug not only showcases superior craftsmanship but also aligns seamlessly with your unique style.

Quality Matters:

A critical consideration when purchasing handmade rugs online is ensuring their quality. LEON NORELL, renowned for its commitment to excellence, assures the use of premium materials and skilled craftsmanship in every rug. Your purchase is not merely a decorative addition but a lasting investment guaranteed to withstand the test of time.

Sizing and Placement:

Understanding the dimensions of your space is crucial for selecting the ideal rug size. This guide provides insights into measuring your area, and LEON NORELL's online platform aids this process by offering detailed product descriptions and images. This ensures you can visualize how each rug will complement your living spaces in London.

Customer Reviews and Testimonials:

Customer reviews are invaluable in gauging the quality and service of an online platform. LEON NORELL proudly showcases positive feedback from satisfied customers, attesting to the brand's dedication to delivering not only rugs but an exceptional online shopping experience. Transparent customer testimonials instill confidence in your purchasing decision.

Secure Transactions and Policies:

It is crucial to ensure the security of your online transactions, and LEON NORELL places a high priority on client pleasure by offering safe payment methods and open policies.  This guide emphasizes the importance of reviewing shipping, return, and warranty policies to guarantee a seamless and risk-free buying experience.

In conclusion, this ultimate guide transforms the journey to buy handmade rugs online in the UK into a delightful adventure. LEON NORELL, a trusted companion in this quest, offers not just a shopping platform but a curated collection of handcrafted rugs that redefine luxury and sophistication. As you embark on this online rug-buying experience, let LEON NORELL guide you in transforming your living spaces into havens of elegance and style, all while keeping in mind options like "cheap handmade rugs London" and the allure of "cotton handmade rugs London.

[sparkly-key]

Echo chamber

Aziraphale watch Crowley almost literally get dragged into Hell, leaving him alone on Earth. Well, not alone, but he might as well have been. Day 3 of Whumptober 2023. "Like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon."

Related but not related to Day 2's "Quite the Imagination" because if I get to physically torture Crowley in 1827, it's only fair to mentally unhinge Aziraphale in the same time frame, right? Right?!

“Crowley?!” the angel called, forcing himself not to yell as he stared aghast at the spot where the demon had stood less than a second ago.

(“My lot doesn’t send rude notes,” Crowley growled years ago as Aziraphale stepped away from the chains that had tethered him to the bastille’s stone walls a moment ago.

The gratitude stilled on the angel’s tongue at the reminder.)

If Aziraphale had a heart, he doubted he would have been able to hear the crickets and owls’ answers to his call over the necessary organ’s thunderous beating in his chest.

Crowley was in Hell.

The angel clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, and tried to assure himself that it was alright. Crowley was clever. He’d tell a tale worthy of Aziraphale’s bookshop to explain why he’d stopped a young urchin from committing the most grievous sin and chuckle about it with the angel, as they usually did after doing each other’s jobs.

Doubt filled Aziraphale’s mind, whispering that after all these years of worrying about what Heaven would do to him if they discovered the Arrangement, he should have spent more thought to what would happen if Hell discovered Crowley’s subterfuge.

The angel twisted the heavy gold signet ring around his pinky as he hastened out of the graveyard, the gesture doing nothing to soothe his nerves.

He lingered in Edinburgh for nearly a week - surreptitiously returning to the spot cemetery path where the demon had vanished, as if Hell would deposit Crowley in the same spot – before he admitted the futility of it, hurrying past the rear of Gabriel’s sculpture as though crossing its sight would summon the archangel himself.

London felt colder when he returned, as if the city was missing Crowley’s infernal presence. Though bustling as ever, Aziraphale couldn’t ignore the sense of loneliness that plagued him from inside his shop as days passed.

Without his little assignations with Crowley and with Heaven never popping in for a visit, he felt even more isolated than he had outside Eden, after the serpent had slithered back to Hell to report his success and Aziraphale had sealed off the Garden brick by brick.

(“Aziraphale, where is your sword?” She asked, Her Voice louder than the thunder the world had witnessed for the first time hours ago.

Aziraphale patted the boulder he’d just wedged into the wall as if he was testing its security instead of stalling so he could at least try to not look as guilty. He turned around, lifting his face to the sky, and wrung his hands. “It’s around … here … somewhere.”

Adam and Eve were specks in the distances, their miniscule forms swimming in the hot air over the vast expanse of sand.

She was silent, Her disappointment plain to the principality before he felt Her absence.

The Guardian of the Eastern Gate breathed a small noise of sorrow before he straightened his back and stared determinedly to the horizon. His post was a lonely one, but he would not disappoint The Almighty again.)

He didn’t know when he stopped telling himself that the tempter’s quick mind and silver tongue would spare him any punishment. But Aziraphale’s mind was eager to provide excuses, explanations that might assuage somebody else.

“He’s fine,” the angel fret, staring at the marks his shoes had worn in his Persian rug from his pacing these past 56 weeks. “He’s just being safe, staying away until things cool down.”

Time was a funny thing for an angel. It passed simultaneously in the blink of an eye and at a snail’s pace unless the celestial being was among those powerful enough to halt it.

(“Would you mind?” Aziraphale muttered at Crowley.

“Hm?” The demon asked, looking away from the jarred human remains filling the surgeon’s shelves. The blond gestured to Mr. Dalrymple, wiggling his fingers pointedly. “Oh. Yeah.”

Mr. Dalrymple froze as he ran a rag over the length of a cleaver, the blood smearing along the steel.)

Aziraphale inhaled sharply at the memory, so innocent then but now tainted by his guilt.

What if he’d been quicker? If he’d recognized the laudanum before Crowley and acted first? If he’d stopped the demon from drinking the opiate and saved Elspeth before she followed through on her plan?

Some angel he was, relying on a demon to do his job for him.

With a groan, he snapped his fingers and miracled away the worn marks on the rugs and retrieved his coat to venture out into the city.

The only difference in the path he tread now and the one he’d just vanished is that his footsteps weren’t as blatant as they were on the rug, but that was because bricks and grass and dirt were either too resilient to display them or too burdened by others to distinguish them.

Aziraphale had walked through the city countless times, circling the points Crowley and he had designated as their clandestine meeting locations. He fed the ducks in St. James Park, giving them extra handfuls of peas and fruit to make up for the demon’s absence. He peeked inside the pub they dined at when Crowley convinced him no one was watching, but the angel always denied himself a morsel of food or sip of wine out of penance for his inadequacy. He lingered outside The Globe, staring balefully at the banners proclaiming productions of the bard’s comedies. And when he’d finished his circuit, he’d return to his bookshop, and pace the length of his Persian rug.

“What is the definition of insanity?” Aziraphale asked himself aloud months later as he shrugged his shoulders out of the coat and fastidiously hung it on a hook, perched precisely to avoid stretching out the collar.

Doing the same thing over and over and over again and hoping for a different result.

“It can’t last forever,” the angel assured himself, his voice [1]filling the empty bookshop. “One day, he’ll come back. Who better to tempt humanity further into sin than the wily serpent who coaxed Adam and Eve into the original one?”

Crowley had been gone for years when Aziraphale had gotten … excessive with his miracles. He bestowed blessings willy-nilly, caring naught for how ludicrous they seemed. The young debutante in the park longed for a flower to adorn her plain straw bonnet? A field of wildflowers sprung up around her in a 20-foot radius. The urchins on the street corner gazed at the grocer’s apple cart, their hand pressed to their bellies to fruitlessly quell the empty ache? The cart’s wheel cracked, sending its bounty into the streets as the children scrambled to catch them and flee with their arms laden with produce – and the vendor found a few extra bank notes in their apron pocket.

The Almighty’s Grace was allowed to run rampant through London Town due to an unchecked angel who couldn’t bring himself to pray that Hell would realize the danger of not having an emissary to thwart him.

Aziraphale tossed the rude note from Gabriel into the waste bin and strode out into the streets, his tartan umbrella overhead to shield him from the downpour the way a brilliant white wing had sheltered him from a storm of shooting stars as a nebula formed in front of them.

A dandy dashing from awning to awning in a frantic race to save his new coat from the rain found his path miraculously dry as the droplets parted around him like the Red Sea had split before Moses.

“Aziraphale!” A voice barked out between the thunder.

The principality whirled, his eyes wide, at the name that had not been spoken aloud on Earth in 30 years. But the face that greeted him lacked Crowley’s sharp jaw and golden gaze. Instead, Gabriel’s lips were pressed together in a thin line of annoyance and his violet eyes were irked as he glared at the blond from the doorway of a tailor’s shop.

Aziraphale stilled, his shoulders slumping, as the archangel beckoned to him as if he were an impertinent child.

“What in Her name are you doing?” his superior hissed when Aziraphale reached him.

The blond closed his umbrella and shook it, trying to school his features into an expression less ... crestfallen. “My job, Gabriel. I am spreading Her Grace so all may know that the Almighty is everywhere.”

Crowley would have cackled at the exasperation on Gabriel’s face, Aziraphale was sure, but he was not the demon and the hard gaze dampened whatever spark of rebellion the principality had fanned moments ago.

“That flashy stuff went out of mandate decades ago, Aziraphale, we are now operating under a Blind Faith policy – the humans are meant to trust in the Almighty by finding her Glory in the world around them,” Gabriel explained patronizingly as they retreated into the shop. The tailor was nowhere to be seen, no doubt unexplainedly reminded of a chore in the back. “Besides, there’s no need for such actions. Our intelligence reports that the demon Crowley hasn’t been in London for years, off who knows where –“

HE’S IN HELL, Aziraphale mentally cried out as a wave of insanity washed over him and Gabriel’s words were drowned out. He knew where Crowley was, knew what had put him there. And Gabriel had just watched as the earth had swallowed the demon –

No. He hadn’t.

It had been a statue in the graveyard in the archangel’s likeness, not Gabriel himself. Because the only beings who had witnessed Crowley’s intervention were either too powerless to stop the demon’s abduction or were too powerful to let such a good deed go unpunished. Because Aziraphale had been alone in the cemetery with Crowley that night. And he’d been alone on Earth ever since.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Gabriel snapped his fingers in front of his face and he forced the deranged burst of laughter that threatened to erupt from his lips down his throat.

“You’ve been down here too long, chum,” the archangel declared with a decisive nod, “and you could clearly stand to brush up on Her policies. I believe it’s time for you to return to Heaven.”

The words slammed into Aziraphale like the door of a vault, heavy and inescapable. He fought against the wave of panic.

He couldn’t leave Earth. He had to mind his shop. He had to protect his collection.

He had to be here. To make sure Crowley was alright.

“- We’ll assign somebody to Earth and they can use your shop as headquarters. Maybe Saraqael,” Gabriel continued, already planning to erase all of Aziraphale’s work.

“Unnecessary,” the blond interrupted, tidying his caravat and tugging at the hem of his waistcoat to smooth the few wrinkles in its fawn brown fabric. “I’d like to remain at my post, if you don’t mind.”

“Aziraphale, in the past month, you’ve acted  – well, you’ve acted recklessly. It’s not dignified for an angel to be running amok as you’ve been. “ There was that tone. The one where the other angels acted as if he was a simpleton who needed to have everything explained to him.

As if he didn’t nearly 6,000 years learning as much as he could without having to ask questions[2].

(“I wouldn’t worry though,” the angel said with a small smile to hide his disappointment at the thought of his stars and nebulas reduced to a blip in the archives of the Almighty. “How much trouble can I get into just for asking a few questions?”)

“My apologies for my outburst, Gabriel, I don’t know what came over me but I guarantee you that it won’t happen again,” Aziraphale assured his boss with a tight smile. “You’ve made me see how foolish I’ve been.”

Crowley would come back eventually. And Aziraphale would be damned if his friend was greeted by another angel.

______________________________________________________________

[1] His voice was perfectly normal, thank you very much. Definitely not shrill. And it was perfectly fine to talk to yourself. After all, She had stationed him alone at the Gates of Eden and not spoken him after asking him about the sword. So clearly, he was meant to talk to himself.

[2] He could ask Crowley questions. He’d lost count of the questions he’d asked and the ones Crowley had asked in return.