Sunday, April 3, 2016
Aestheticizing, A Pretty Therapy
Yesterday was a rainy one, so all the outdoors work got cancelled. O.K. Instead, we went to an early lunch and came home for a long nap. When we woke, the skies had cleared, so we headed out for the hardware store to get some picture hangers. And then. . . I put up two of my large pieces in the bedroom. Ooo-la-la. Of course I hated them right away. They were awful. Ili thought otherwise, though, and by the end of the night, I was getting used to seeing my own work hung. We hung other works, too, pictures by better photographers than I. I hung two of Ellen Rogers' pictures that have been leaning against the wall for a very long time. Jesus, why didn't I hang them before. They are by a bookshelf in a cozy room now made more cozy by the pictures. The picture above is one of them. It hangs with a matching piece. Thanks, Ellen.
Today, the weather is right, so I will do the outdoor things that I didn't do yesterday. Scintillating news. But don't take it literally. This is about cleaning and aestheticizing life. I feel better the more beautiful things get. It is thrilling in a more than surface sense. The art and articles with which I adorn the house are very lyrical and decorative. My floors and walls are not a museum to ideology. It is like the music that fills the air. It is pretty. No Black Flag. Chet Baker, yes. I like this life.
To wit, last night we made a colorful meal in the wok and played cards after. Funny, huh? But after saying "pinochle" so many times, Ili said we should buy a playing deck. Neither of us could remember how to play anything but poker, but that isn't much fun if you aren't playing for money. Still, it is nice to have the cards lying about. It reminds us that life is a game of chance.
Today we fill the wine rack with pretty, drinkable bottles. And we will look for a corner bar. Funny. I meant the kind that fits into a corner. We will look in the antique stores to see what we can find. The interior of the house is looking better than it has since. . . well, for a very long time. Soon, perhaps, I will be able to say "ever."
The cat is curled up on one of the leather chairs and the morning light makes patterns in the living room. Shadows of pussy willows on the dining room wall. Coffee. The promise of the day.
Posted by cafe selavy at 8:44 AM