This week I am back at the office filling in on my days off from the cottage. I am in reminiscent mode of when I first came to Calgary in the fall and things, rather a feeling, is washing back over me. I stifle a smile and roll my eyes up as if the memories are in the top right corner of the room.
Summer had gone and I was starting to absorb the fullness of autumn. Change was the title, uncertainty the thesis statement and the cursor was blinking on the proverbial page. There, then not. There, then not. Waiting for me to start typing. Something.Anything. But how do you write your life when you don't know what the hell you are doing?
I adore fall, it is my favorite season and mostly because it makes me pensive. Something rises in me. Something art, something creative. Fall changes me. It rearranges the furniture in my heart. Furniture that has always been there but looks fresh when you move it around. Perspective is funny that way, isn't it.
Often fall adds a new rug to the collection or decides to omit the antique lamp that was never turned on in all the years it's been dawning the space I lived within.
Where, I wonder, do those pieces go? To another living room or to the dump? Is some of my new collection recylced to me like the gorgeous vintage coffee table of 2009? Is someone missing it or were they glad to see that part of their life go. It inspires me and I hope it will always "work" in my space.
Fall forcibly changes me. It is out of my hands and I look forward to that. It's silly but I prefer it that way. What will it bring me this year?
Last year I think it brought me choice. I sat on choice for a while and am now wearing it in slowly. Like a big chesterfield brown with big orange flowers.
Summer had gone and I was starting to absorb the fullness of autumn. Change was the title, uncertainty the thesis statement and the cursor was blinking on the proverbial page. There, then not. There, then not. Waiting for me to start typing. Something.Anything. But how do you write your life when you don't know what the hell you are doing?
I adore fall, it is my favorite season and mostly because it makes me pensive. Something rises in me. Something art, something creative. Fall changes me. It rearranges the furniture in my heart. Furniture that has always been there but looks fresh when you move it around. Perspective is funny that way, isn't it.
Often fall adds a new rug to the collection or decides to omit the antique lamp that was never turned on in all the years it's been dawning the space I lived within.
Where, I wonder, do those pieces go? To another living room or to the dump? Is some of my new collection recylced to me like the gorgeous vintage coffee table of 2009? Is someone missing it or were they glad to see that part of their life go. It inspires me and I hope it will always "work" in my space.
Fall forcibly changes me. It is out of my hands and I look forward to that. It's silly but I prefer it that way. What will it bring me this year?
Last year I think it brought me choice. I sat on choice for a while and am now wearing it in slowly. Like a big chesterfield brown with big orange flowers.
I like it now that it has grown on me and my space wouldn't be the same without it. I'm comfortable with it being there and the tacky pattern no longer intimates me. Its familiar and I am in charge because it knows I will have it covered in an instant with fresh polka dot fabric if I choose to.
I am hoping this year fall will bring me a love seat. One with deep cushions you can sink into and doesn't mind when you do.
I am hoping this year fall will bring me a love seat. One with deep cushions you can sink into and doesn't mind when you do.
I can hear my granmothers voice in my head "don't flop on the furniture!"...
"I'm not" I'd say. "I'm falling".
