The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.
Is it just me or do you tire REALLY easy of your surroundings? I find myself invariably changing EVERYTHING in my house. I think I get it from my Mama– no joke.
My mom was forever rearranging the furniture in our pristine living room. You know, the one your parents had with white couches and antiques you couldn’t dare touch? The ones where if you even looked like you wanted to walk in there while they were entertaining you’d get beaten? Yes, I had those parents. And I had that mother.
I thought the day I discovered that I was just like my mother would be a sad day. Dancing to songs in the car off beat like her, moving furniture just for the sake of it, curb shopping for home decor… But instead of sadness I felt a sense of belonging. I am my mother’s child. I found out after she passed away that I am also my father’s child. That they both shared a love of bargain hunting, curb shopping, decorating, and creating.
A few months ago my father got into floral arranging! Ha! Go figure. I never in a million years would have imagined that 1/2 my creativity came from my dad! During my childhood he was such a man’s man. A welder by trade– I thought he was superman. Cutting the yard and keeping it tidy was/is his passion. But flowers?! That knocked my socks off.
I say all of this to illustrate my need to create and more importantly recreate. That every project I finish is never done. At best, it simply IS.
I’d painted over a Goodwill find and decided my bedroom retreat would be the best place for it. I settled on various shades of pink with splashes of gold for that particular canvas. And after a month or so I got bored. I found a snazzy vase at HomeGoods and plucked the arrangement in my hallway apart to fill it. Once it went up on the console it felt like too much pink. Too much color.
I had one choice. White paint and water. Yep. It was a simple fix. White wash it with a DIY’d version of Milk Paint. And it came out fabulous. It’s muted but full of depth. Bright but dull enough to let the furnishings and floral arrangement shine. I think I’m in love. New abstract art for my abstract arrangement melds perfectly together and it didn’t cost me a single penny.
Check out the before and after of the room. Never mind that I’ve moved things around quite a bit. That’s what happens when you become your mother.
Moral of the story:
Becoming your mother is a good thing when you had a great one.