I did not buy this Igor painting because I'm not going to start collecting campy sex kitten art of the 1960s. This was one of a pair, however, and it seemed reasonably priced on the first day of this estate sale ($30), so I went back on the second day when it had dropped by 30% but I still didn't buy it because it was very grimy (its mate was water-damanged). Was it original? I spent a lot of time standing in front of it, conspicuously googling Igor Pantuhoff on my iPhone, but couldn't make up my mind. I resolved to return the next day, when the prices would be cut in half, and buy it if it was still there. I never went back. Probably for the best.
Despite my affection for obsolete technology and especially old-fangled writing machines, I didn't buy either of these typewriters. I didn't even consider it for a moment. I just thought they looked so picturesque, relics strewn about in the grass, like a kind of typewriter graveyard—the sort of image that's just begging to be instagrammed. What about replacing garden gnomes with old typewriters? In the hands of the right design blogger, I'm sure this is an idea that could be sold in certain hipster enclaves in Brooklyn.
check the type writer paper role system when you start the work.
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