It rained for two days straight this week(!) and then this happened. My office/studio/favorite room emerged from its chaotic and disorganized chrysalis.
I find myself always doing major reorganizing/redecorating projects in early June… I hustle to turn under plots, haul compost, plant pounds and pounds of potatoes, mulch, weed, lay walkways. And then at some point…it’s done. For like two days. And then it rains and I have all of this momentum and energy. By the time the sun is shining and the weeds are growing again I have a new room. Some people get spa treatments…I go to the hardware store to buy paint. I tear things apart and I put them back together. And it soothes me.
I don’t have an unembarrassing picture of this room from when we first moved in here. The walls were Twinkie yellow sponge paint and there was stuff everywhere. The sponge paint was painted right on to wallpaper with little strawberries printed all over it. It peeled off almost in complete sheets and revealed retro red wallpaper from the 60s which I had a love-hate relationship with for five years.
I remember when this room was adorned with strawberries. My sister and I snuck up here as little girls. Grandma’s sewing room was tucked far away, in the farthest corner of the house. She liked to get lost up here. And so did we. I still do. We dug through her jars of buttons and baskets of zippers. Lining them up and organizing them by color on that still new mustard indoor/outdoor carpet.
I feel bad each time I redecorate a room. I feel like I’m peeling away bits of its history and memory and life. I kept the red wallpaper for five years before I could bring myself to paint over it. Though I kept a piece of it intact and framed it over the doorway. The red made me feel crazy. The patterns and the design made me feel even crazier. I felt constantly disorganized. Now, I can breathe. But I am avoiding opening the closet next door. Because that is where I threw everything that didn’t fit back in to this room.