I am writing this open letter to ask you personally to make whatever amends you feel necessary. Make peace in your lives and with loved ones and shake hands with your neighbor (even the one who habitually leers at you as you and your cat walk to work). The end is nigh and there are 4 men on pinto ponies riding in this direction. I tell you this in the urgent whisper with which I announce the presence of chocolate cake in the office.
I have finished a home project. One that required actual decisions, detail and labor.
This, I fear, has sent shockwaves through the universe, reversing the direction of several rivers (creeks, really), brought about a swarm of squirrels (tried for a peep of hens so we could have fresh eggs in our final days but no luck) and caused HoneyCat to break into Joni Mitchell's winter classic "River" several times in one afternoon. I'm quite saddened that it took the end of days for me to discover this hidden talent of hers. No wonder she loves Jason's guitar cases so much.
It started last December when I received a beautiful post-modern buffet from my parents that had belonged to my grandmother. I love teak. I love the lines on furniture from the Mad Men era, so clean but still warm. It matches my desk, originally my Dad's (and then my brother's but we try to help him forget that). My "office" is also my dressing room, laundry piling center and until yesterday, a wasted junk space for everything I didn't feel like dealing with at just that minute. Most people have drawers. I had a room. Ok, not technically a room. An annex off the kitchen (what? that kind've IS my office) but definitely part of what sold me on the apartment. This is what it started out looking like (photo from December but it's only amassed more junk since then).
Two beautiful pieces of furniture, an assortment of items to put on the wall but no direction and no idea what to do with the one warped wall and a window that features no view but bricks. I knew I wanted to paint but I wanted to do so much that it became harder and harder to decide what color or what wallpaper or the process of learning to wallpaper. The task was easier and easier to push off until one day I just started painting swatches, desperate to take back what represents at least $200 of what I pay in rent each month. So then there was this, which I lived with for two months, knowing none of the four colors was the right one:
But it did help me to focus out of the desire to see it through, the peek of potential and the horror when none of my frequent dinner party guests were surprised to see my wall painted four different colors. They'd long since learned to ignore that space altogether. No more.
As Jason and I cohabitate significantly more than we used to, I also used the nesting excuse. He needs a drawer or two. A spot for a suitcase and guitars. Thus I put myself on a timeline to surprise him with the re-do, he being significantly handier around the house and more apt at finishing these kinds of things than I am. That's probably most people but moving on.
In true procrastinator's fashion, J was due in Sunday night around 9pm, so 8:30am Sunday morning found me moving junk out of the space, taping the walls and touching up molding. By 1pm I was on my way to my neighborhood paint store (they know me now and are luckily bemused by my color descriptors which are almost always food). I'd brought a swatch of cabinet liner as my color of choice- a warm green somewhere between chartreuse, avocado (stop cringing, mother) and the leaves on olive branches. Benjamin Moore Terrapin Green it is!
So I painted. And I threw a lot of junk away. I painted again. I cleaned and moved the furniture and beat the nasty out of that flocati rug. Now I promise I will provide better shots with natural light but here's where we're at:
On the far left you'll notice a table that is going away just as soon as I find a creative way to display my hats. Hopefully I can find a short teak bureau or a bookcase to go there for some extra storage. I haven't taken pictures of the kitchen yet but I moved the butcher's block way up in the far kitchen corner where I can use it more frequently. It is also a far more appropriate home for Tangerine the KitchenAid. There's a lot more room around the table and the whole arrangement just looks far less random. I'm such a happy camper- can't wait to hang the rest of my treasures up on "the gallery wall."
Oh. And good luck with the world ending. If you hear a second alto wish for a river to skate away on, I would start running for a piece of pie.
Hearts, Stars, Honey and Garlic,