Shelf Life
Shelf Life
Last Friday I adopted two new bookshelves. One is tall-ish and lean, the other is shorter and on the wide side. They single handedly, well double-shelfedly took care of the mind wrenching clutter that occupied two opposite corners of my bedroom.
It is said your house/home is a reflection of your inner self. My home consists of areas of great beauty (meaning: beautiful things I treasure), orderly placed furniture and quirky props, like the rhinestone brooches I hang on the walls like art. And then there are piles of crap, with corners so neglected and passed over it is as if they do not even exist on my plane of reality.
Sometimes, I make the mistake of noticing things. This time, I noticed the brown shelf I bought at a garage sales some years ago and the white shelf (with the brown one on top) were looking less than neat and organized. Actually, the brown shelf was nicely decorated with my Noritake "gondola/Venice" painted china that I have been collecting piece by piece from ebay the last couple of years. However, the white shelf, with 3 square openings that I so cleverly laid on its side and propped the brown shelf on, held a mishmash of books and paraphernalia. Most were travel books, but it also had my black Birkenstocks and my brown leather sandals, a 5-pound hand weight and handfuls of dust with essence of dog fur.
The opposite corner to the left of my bed consisted of an avalanche of books that drifted on the floor halfway down the length of my bed along the wall with the window (overlooking the blueberry bushes and creek). It was a path just wide enough for easy walking. But that ease was hampered by the jumble of books which ended where the small nightstand (also piled with books) cowered in a dark, under used corner.
This is what I unfortunately noticed the other day. Once I happen upon a mess (although it could have been that way for years, as is this case) a cure becomes essential or obsessive, take your pick. Maybe it was the happy addition of the light green ottoman on wheels, with the storage space inside. This piece did 'neaten' up the rest of the room quite a bit. It must have been the contrast that caused the problem corners to scream loud enough for me to finally notice.
So now in the under used corner, the tall-ish, lean bookshelf now smugly holds books and pretty things (including a fleet of various colored ceramic gondolas on top). I also moved a wall lamp over there to light brighten the works. This meant I had to move up some of my ceramic duck wall pockets. They now fly a little higher than before, but with more light. My Signac print of Venice from NYC's Met had to move. But then I was able to import a few highly decorated silver spoons with enameled pictures of Venice in the bowls and sporting on top either a gondola or the 'Lion of Venice'; hanging them on the wall, below the ducks, with tiny nails.
My details are not so much an attempt to give somebody a list of 'my stuff.' It is a symptom of showing that nothing is simple. I could not 'simply' install even one shelf. It turns into a major procession of shifting, viewing and shifting again. Although I can live with invisible messes for years at a time, I can also be extremely particular as to whether something belongs, Here, an inch to the left? to the right? or maybe on another shelf?...(you get the picture).
This is how I spent most of my weekend: Rearranging shelves, books, pictures, spoons, lamps, candles, shoes, books, pictures, dust bunnies and did I mention books? The results did make it all worth it. My bruised knee and cranky lower back will recover. My room no longer has any hideous, screaming, neglected corners. That translates back to my brain as a whisper of calm.
Anybody need a brown bookshelf? My brown garage sale beauty is now cluttering my life in a new way as I type; sitting awkwardly next to my printer, in a spot where no piece of furniture should ever reside….
Last Friday I adopted two new bookshelves. One is tall-ish and lean, the other is shorter and on the wide side. They single handedly, well double-shelfedly took care of the mind wrenching clutter that occupied two opposite corners of my bedroom.
It is said your house/home is a reflection of your inner self. My home consists of areas of great beauty (meaning: beautiful things I treasure), orderly placed furniture and quirky props, like the rhinestone brooches I hang on the walls like art. And then there are piles of crap, with corners so neglected and passed over it is as if they do not even exist on my plane of reality.
Sometimes, I make the mistake of noticing things. This time, I noticed the brown shelf I bought at a garage sales some years ago and the white shelf (with the brown one on top) were looking less than neat and organized. Actually, the brown shelf was nicely decorated with my Noritake "gondola/Venice" painted china that I have been collecting piece by piece from ebay the last couple of years. However, the white shelf, with 3 square openings that I so cleverly laid on its side and propped the brown shelf on, held a mishmash of books and paraphernalia. Most were travel books, but it also had my black Birkenstocks and my brown leather sandals, a 5-pound hand weight and handfuls of dust with essence of dog fur.
The opposite corner to the left of my bed consisted of an avalanche of books that drifted on the floor halfway down the length of my bed along the wall with the window (overlooking the blueberry bushes and creek). It was a path just wide enough for easy walking. But that ease was hampered by the jumble of books which ended where the small nightstand (also piled with books) cowered in a dark, under used corner.
This is what I unfortunately noticed the other day. Once I happen upon a mess (although it could have been that way for years, as is this case) a cure becomes essential or obsessive, take your pick. Maybe it was the happy addition of the light green ottoman on wheels, with the storage space inside. This piece did 'neaten' up the rest of the room quite a bit. It must have been the contrast that caused the problem corners to scream loud enough for me to finally notice.
So now in the under used corner, the tall-ish, lean bookshelf now smugly holds books and pretty things (including a fleet of various colored ceramic gondolas on top). I also moved a wall lamp over there to light brighten the works. This meant I had to move up some of my ceramic duck wall pockets. They now fly a little higher than before, but with more light. My Signac print of Venice from NYC's Met had to move. But then I was able to import a few highly decorated silver spoons with enameled pictures of Venice in the bowls and sporting on top either a gondola or the 'Lion of Venice'; hanging them on the wall, below the ducks, with tiny nails.
My details are not so much an attempt to give somebody a list of 'my stuff.' It is a symptom of showing that nothing is simple. I could not 'simply' install even one shelf. It turns into a major procession of shifting, viewing and shifting again. Although I can live with invisible messes for years at a time, I can also be extremely particular as to whether something belongs, Here, an inch to the left? to the right? or maybe on another shelf?...(you get the picture).
This is how I spent most of my weekend: Rearranging shelves, books, pictures, spoons, lamps, candles, shoes, books, pictures, dust bunnies and did I mention books? The results did make it all worth it. My bruised knee and cranky lower back will recover. My room no longer has any hideous, screaming, neglected corners. That translates back to my brain as a whisper of calm.
Anybody need a brown bookshelf? My brown garage sale beauty is now cluttering my life in a new way as I type; sitting awkwardly next to my printer, in a spot where no piece of furniture should ever reside….
posted by Laurie at
3:30 PM
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