friday fictioneers: one artist’s rendering…

Remodeling spaces is a form of art.

Could it be that Picasso dabbled in fixer-uppers before painting anatomically grotesque women?

An artist begins with a blank canvas. So it is when I behold the before…imagining in my mind’s eye what will come after.

While I do not strike the carpenter’s hammer or turn the plumber’s screwdriver, mine is the creative vision.

The inspiration. The design. The materials. The textures. The colors.

My aesthetics power the coalescence of the parts.

And when it comes to details…I’m the devil.

Never for symmetry, instead by gut instinct.

If it feels rightIT’S MAGIC!

IMG_4191

…master bedroom…this artist’s vision come true…

IMG_5184

…daughter’s bedroom…also this artist’s rendering…

 

(Visit http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/10/15/17-october-2014/
for more great 100 word stories on the photo prompt.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

…stuff, stuff, and more stuff…

Or as we Hawaiians like to say…OPALA, OPALA, and more OPALA…

Imported Photos 00519

…my daughter’s “opala”…

We may fool ourselves into thinking we have just the right amount of stuff, until we try to cram in more. Of course with our daughter moving back home, I’m not talking about a few boxes. I’m talking about a lot of boxes, a couple of dressers, a sofa, a small dining set, a wingback chair, a bookcase, a huge cabinet, a corner cabinet, a computer desk with chair, lamps, pictures…and all the accompanying knick-knacks. And then there’s her clothes…don’t ask!

...more of her stuff...

…more of her stuff…btw, that weird, penguin-looking thing in the chair is a massager…just in case you were wondering…

None of this is really our daughter’s fault, however. I take most of the blame. Having her live 3,000 miles from us since she was 16, I wanted her to feel as though she was still ensconced in the loving spirit of our home. She grew up with vintage furnishings which lend themselves to a feeling of coziness, and that’s what I wanted to recreate for her.

My decorating plan worked wonderfully. Our daughter flourished during the 11 years she’s been on her own. I like to think it was due, in part, to her loving her personal surroundings. She assures me it was. I don’t doubt her…since she’s not donating the lot of it to Goodwill. Although she did part with a good bit of tchotchkas when she moved from an apartment suspected of having bed bugs, even though only one larva was discovered in the seam of the bed’s boxspring.

...my "opala"...

…my “opala”…

Because I’m a nut for antiques, our daughter couldn’t help but have some of it rub off on her. Like mother, like daughter. Thankfully, she’s like her father too. He’s got attributes I wish I had…like ignoring people and things that can bug the heck out of me. With his guidance, I’m learning…I’m learning.

So if I’ve spent the last few weeks rearranging my house in preparation for my daughter’s homecoming, I’ve only got myself to thank. Of course the overriding sentiment is that it’ll all be worth it to have her with us…for as long as she’s with us.

God works in mysterious ways, so it’s best to…

…just go with the flow…

………hugmamma.

...two peas in a pod...

…two peas in a pod…bff’s forever…

christmas 2011???

Not quite! More like Christmas 2010 is still liking our “digs,” and has decided to stay put a little longer. Truth be told, it’s not like the holiday decor has had a choice. It’s more that I’ve been slow to pack it away. So here come the excuses.

You know I was ill for awhile. I’m better now. Thank you very much. But as a result we weren’t able to entertain friends who wanted to see our decorations. Now that it’s February I think most of them will have to wait until it really is Christmas 2011, except for my good friend Cindy. She’ll be over Friday for lunch. She so enjoys how I intermix antiques, collectibles and holiday items to create a vintage wonderland. Another reason for her visit is to peruse my Venice travel guides. She’s hoping her family will make the trip there sometime this year.

Speaking of Christmas past, and being ill, my husband and daughter were fabulous to prepare the entire holiday meal, from appetizers to dessert. As one who is totally anal about details, I resisted at first. But while the brain might have been up for the challenge, my body dug in its heels and said “No way! Uh, uh. Can’t do it.” So I sat back, more like laid on the sofa, and let husband and daughter “have at it,” as the Brits like to say. Well, they knocked my gourmet socks off…way off! I had chosen the recipes, but they came up with masterpieces. I decided on the spot, that I wasn’t the only cook allowed in my kitchen. Someday I might even relinquish my chef’s hat altogether. Now when’s my hubby retiring? Hmmm…I’ll gain a cook, a gardener, maybe even a housecleaner…

Since this post is a Christmas hodgepodge of sorts, I wanted to include photos of nearby homes which exploded with holiday spirit. Our family’s favorite is the window that displays the fish-net stockinged, woman’s leg, lamp and shade, from the 60s “The Christmas Story.” Until recently it was only a favorite of my husband’s. In years past I’d grimace whenever he spoke of watching it replayed on TV. This year, however, my daughter and me purchased the DVD as a present for him. I MUST be getting older, and mellower, because I did find the movie endearing. It reminded me of the good days. Old folks are always a sucker for reminiscing about the past. I’m no different it seems.

So now you know my Christmas secrets. We’re still celebrating the holidays. Yes, I still light all 5 trees. However, I refrain from flipping the switch on the outdoor lights. The neighbors might think we’re loony. I didn’t cook the annual holiday meal. And I’ve been won over by a movie I use to think was so corny. But you know what? Extending the season just means we continue to have lots of “good will toward men,” and God knows we on earth could use several mountains worth, especially now.

ho, ho, ho…and a merry christmas to all…and to all a good night…hugmamma. (good morning, actually, since it’s 10:19 a.m. where i am.)