I had to do it, so I did it; my house is not only clean, it is in the just-right shape to do its job of being comfortable and inspirational. As you could see, yesterday, by mid-day I was still discouraged and crabby. But I had made a list, and I obliterated it. I like to make doable lists. My brain responds well to scritching things off a Post-It with a scritchy pen.
About a month ago I made a "hallway" by moving my huge IKEA Expedit bookcase over to the left, something like a 1.5 feet. Hubby didn't care for this much, though I thought it was brilliant and I'm the one in there the most. So I placated him by putting up his framed photos on the wall. I just pounded nails in and this is what I got. I don't have a lot of patience for hanging things just-so.
I still need to hang some of my own stuff but for now, it feels marginally artful to just leave things in stacks on the flipside - my "library". I really want to make or buy (cheaply) a folding screen to make this room feel truly contained. All that will be missing, then, is a fireplace. But that I cannot make or buy. I will placate myself with a "fireside" candle.
I read once, in my first round of graduate school, that being too detail-obsessive is counter-productive, so let's just get it out of the way, the idea that I might have to have everything just so. Not so. But I do like things to be in their place before I move forward with massive projects, which I'm going to be doing (in about 5 minutes, at that). I've probably said this all before. It bears repeating. I can write anywhere, and I often usually end up holed up in my bed with my computer, but I do like to have multiple space options. Shoot me if I end up in a 1-bedroom apartment in NYC. I'll just have to get an office somewhere, I suppose.
I put up my faux Rothko next to my faux Van Gogh and my next "painting" will just have to rhyme with faux, Rothko and Van Gogh.
I like things. All kinds of things. It was intimated recently that I should probably start downsizing. Like how McDonald's did with their Happy Meal fries (see below). But what if I want to say to life, SUPERSIZE ME, DAGNABBIT?
I will make like Scarlett O'Hara and think about it later.
Well, my boudoir is about as riotous as it can be, and with the exception of not knowing what to do with my winter coats, I'd say it's solution-tastic in regards to dressing. Nearly everything is accessible. Everything is choice; all whateverish items have been thinned out (downsizing!) and are gone. Monday I start classes so there will be reason to bust out some new combos.
Though I decided that every day must have glamour, even if I don't "feel" like it. The summer was too blasted hot, and the garments I used to enjoy felt too austere and, well, youthy (as opposed to youthful).
I am coming to like fall/autumn more and more. It helps to gain appreciation for root vegetables. But I really love layering. And, well, mulling spices.
It's not quite a day for anything more than Arwen-style utilitarianism, hence my neon Keds and a recently-thrifted long-sleeve 80's blouse. But I am also wearing Pacifica's French Lilac solid perfume, which is pure bliss, both because it's hard to find lilac scents, and because it was $7 at Whole Foods. I like an inexpensive aesthetic thrill like that. Pacifica is pretty dope.
Anyway. Off to projects. I bought a new bag of earplugs (writing necessity most of the time), and instead of the cylindrical white case, they came with a little clear one, which looks like a suitcase. Luggage for my creative implements. That sounds a bit weird.
I'm ok with that.