Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Wordless Wednesday: unfinished domesticity
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The magic of the domestic
As the idea of my impending home ownership becomes more and more real, I find myself becoming increasingly domestic. It's frustrating that I want to start nesting now, when it is least productive for me! I can't focus on improving where I am, because I will be leaving it soon, but I can't do anything practical for the new place because I'm not there yet. I've been spending a ridiculous amount of time combing through interior design blogs and bookmarking ideas on both craftster (for things I can make myself) and etsy (for things I can not).
But the impracticality of the situation is not stopping me. I've been embroidering a tea towel to use as a carboy cover for when we make mead. Since we almost always have something in one of our carboys, it makes sense for it to be wrapped in something pretty! I selected colors that will be part of the overall decorating scheme which I have planned for my new kitchen. When I'm done with that I think I will begin on curtains for that same room -- I have them perfectly planned out in my mind, and that's something that won't be too much of a pain to move. I made sure to measure those windows during the home inspection last week.
I'm also planning for my garden. One of the many draws of the condo I am purchasing is that we will have a patch of yard that is just ours and not shared with the unit downstairs. I'm starting mugwort and hyssop from seed and will purchase lavendar plants when the time comes. I want to be sure that the faeries feel welcome in my space, after all!
It's natural that I find myself now thinking about the magic inherent in creating a home, the alchemy of creating a sanctuary for yourself and a place of welcome for your friends. It's hard not to reflect on what my decorating choices say about me, and in turn how those choices will impact my life in the new house, not just on a practical level buty on a spiritual one. We are influenced by our surroundings for better or worse, and our homes are the most intimate of those places, and the ones over which we have the most control. I want to be careful about what I build into my life in the new house, for myself and for my husand. I want to build in joy, laughter, passion, and serenity. So mote it be!
But the impracticality of the situation is not stopping me. I've been embroidering a tea towel to use as a carboy cover for when we make mead. Since we almost always have something in one of our carboys, it makes sense for it to be wrapped in something pretty! I selected colors that will be part of the overall decorating scheme which I have planned for my new kitchen. When I'm done with that I think I will begin on curtains for that same room -- I have them perfectly planned out in my mind, and that's something that won't be too much of a pain to move. I made sure to measure those windows during the home inspection last week.
I'm also planning for my garden. One of the many draws of the condo I am purchasing is that we will have a patch of yard that is just ours and not shared with the unit downstairs. I'm starting mugwort and hyssop from seed and will purchase lavendar plants when the time comes. I want to be sure that the faeries feel welcome in my space, after all!
It's natural that I find myself now thinking about the magic inherent in creating a home, the alchemy of creating a sanctuary for yourself and a place of welcome for your friends. It's hard not to reflect on what my decorating choices say about me, and in turn how those choices will impact my life in the new house, not just on a practical level buty on a spiritual one. We are influenced by our surroundings for better or worse, and our homes are the most intimate of those places, and the ones over which we have the most control. I want to be careful about what I build into my life in the new house, for myself and for my husand. I want to build in joy, laughter, passion, and serenity. So mote it be!
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Lancing the wounds of the spirit
I have been the tiniest bit busy these past few weeks, with looking for a new job to replace the one which is ending in June and with my husband and I making an offer on a house. For reasons that are not important in the grand scheme of things I hit a breaking point earlier today. One too many stressful demands were made on me, and I could no longer move forward.
It was in this state -- emotionally ragged and epiritually empty hearted -- that I sat at my dining room table trying to finish an old embroidery project and listening to music (after several false starts I finally settled on Sarah Stockwell's "Dark of the Moon", for those curious). Singing along with the music was helping me somesomewhat, but it was still just a bandaid over the wound, you know? Then I reached a particularly beautiful song, and stopped stitching or singing in order to just listen to it, letting the words bathe me like a waterfall. Something inside me was cracking open, but I didn't fully realize what until it reached what has always been my favorite part of the song: the last line in the last verse -- "I am your annihilation come to make peace." Something rose up from inside, some deeper understanding that I still can not entirely put into words, and I began to sob. The crying only lasted for a few moments, but in those moments I realized that I would be ok. That my annihilation, my shadow, *would* someday come, *would* someday make peace with me. That it's ok to struggle, ok to still be wandering lost in the woods, and that perhaps that is exactly where I am meant to be, perhaps where I am meant to *always* be. And that wouldn't be such a bad thing.
It was in this state -- emotionally ragged and epiritually empty hearted -- that I sat at my dining room table trying to finish an old embroidery project and listening to music (after several false starts I finally settled on Sarah Stockwell's "Dark of the Moon", for those curious). Singing along with the music was helping me somesomewhat, but it was still just a bandaid over the wound, you know? Then I reached a particularly beautiful song, and stopped stitching or singing in order to just listen to it, letting the words bathe me like a waterfall. Something inside me was cracking open, but I didn't fully realize what until it reached what has always been my favorite part of the song: the last line in the last verse -- "I am your annihilation come to make peace." Something rose up from inside, some deeper understanding that I still can not entirely put into words, and I began to sob. The crying only lasted for a few moments, but in those moments I realized that I would be ok. That my annihilation, my shadow, *would* someday come, *would* someday make peace with me. That it's ok to struggle, ok to still be wandering lost in the woods, and that perhaps that is exactly where I am meant to be, perhaps where I am meant to *always* be. And that wouldn't be such a bad thing.
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