Notes on a Shelf



When I moved into my house, I knew immediately that I wanted open shelves on either side of the kitchen sink. Instead, I had lovely (new) oak cabinets.

Not wanting to be ungrateful, I accepted the cabinets for years, because that seemed like the right thing to do; they were good quality, and they showed absolutely no sign of growing old. But, I never stopped wanting shelves; my kitchen is very small, so I knew that shelves would make it look larger, and I wanted to add some character to the well-used, but slightly neglected space. 

At the mere mention of open shelves, the first word I get from anyone is a very adamant no. It is the sudden fear of having to be neat and tidy. It's true; it does mean that our dishes have to be stacked, and cups need to be sitting on something, but don't we do that anyway? Most people don't shove their plates into a cupboard, slam the door, and hope that nothing falls out when they open it again. I really don't think we are all as messy as we think.

The next protest comes from the worry that our dishes might not be pretty enough, or as luxurious as the ones we see in the magazines. I don't agree with this at all, because even if we live on paper plates and little packets of stolen ketchup, they can still be stacked neatly or put in a decorative container. 

Lastly, the other open shelf worry is that things will get dusty, which leads to more cleaning. The funny thing is, when we have things out, we tend to use them more, which means they have to be cleaned. And, if we don't use them, they will probably get dusty and dirty anyway, so either way they will have to be cleaned at some point.

I am embarrassed to say that this assorted jumble of thoughts sat in my own head for nearly ten years, until one afternoon when I really hated my kitchen, and decided it was time to stop worrying about the oak cabinets. Last I checked, they didn't worry at all about me, and I knew I had been taking good care of them for a very long time.
Ripping them out was my first instinct, but as that was more than I was willing to tackle, I settled for taking the doors off and pretending to myself that I had just discovered shelves. Within minutes the doors were off, and it turns out that I was never that messy after all. An hour later I was organized, and my kitchen looked twice the size, and so much more interesting than it had before I had eaten my lunch (and, the dishes that I have aren't fancy or remotely coordinated).

The next day I spackled the holes, and decided to paint the cabinet frames cream. Why this all took so long is beyond me, but my (new) pretend shelves were definitely worth the wait.

Sadly, the beautiful photograph at the top is not of my kitchen - it is from www.bhg.com via Pinterest.

How to Stage your Home to Sell your House

 

Classes are being held next Tuesday, April 14th, and Tuesday May 5th, from 7 - 9pm.

To register, click here on the Roxbury Community School link, or email me at wendy@thebluegiraffe.com if you have any questions.

 

 

 

 

 

A Desert Island List

You know when people ask what three things you couldn't live without if you were stranded on a desert island? I am embarrassed to say that my list has always been the same; an oversized white shirt, a never ending supply of matches, and toilet paper. I figure I can wear the shirt to stop getting burned to a crisp, it will dry quickly when it rains, and I can use it as a distress flag if I ever see a ship and manage to climb the highest peak. The matches would be helpful until I finally learn how to light a fire with the sun, some twigs, and a shard of something shiny, and, the toilet paper, is, well, just because I like toilet paper in my life.

Thinking of desert islands got me wondering about what we really need, and was there anything, decoratively, that I could label as a must-have. We are pretty spoiled in the décor department, but I would say that there may be some things that I would not want to live without.

CHALKBOARD PAINT

I like knowing that the opportunity to express ourselves is always there. Anyone is welcome to pick up the chalk and draw whatever they want; certain pictures and words are treasured and revered, yet I gain immeasurable comfort in knowing that there is always room for more.

A TABLE

What is on a table tells a short story about who we are, and is also an invitation for other people to share who they are; it kind of says to come in, bring what you want, put it down, and make yourself comfortable.

ROSEMARY AND A GERANIUM

A geranium is not a very exciting plant, but it is reliable, and will live happily all year in my Living Room. And, in the dead of Winter it will give me flowers to brighten up my day when I least expect it (and, it thrives on neglect, which is lucky for us both).
Rosemary is one of my favorite herbs; the smell reminds me of my favorite kitchen's, of slow roasted chicken and potatoes for dinner, and that when I grow up I want to be just like Juliette Binoche in the movie Chocolat.

A SOFA AND A BLANKET

Whether I am reading a magazine by the fire, listening to music, or watching television, every sofa feels better with a nearby blanket. I may not always use it, but just knowing it is there makes me feel warm and reassured.

Have you ever thought about your favorite things in your home, and why you wouldn't want to be without them? In hindsight, almost everything that I want is about emotional comfort; in some ways they all seem quite simple, but then again, if I was that simple I should be able to live on a desert island without toilet paper....

(p.s. If I was being indulgent, I would definitely add one of these breathtakingly beautiful photograph's by the very talented Karen Knorr to my list. I couldn't decide which one to use, so the giraffe seemed like the obvious choice, but please check out her website to see more of her amazing work).

Pretty without Apology

In an ideal world, we want our home to be beautiful and practical all the time, but life is never ideal, and when we have to choose we tend to focus on the practical part first (because it seems like the right thing to do) then we decorate (leaving the fun stuff until the very end (or never). Unfortunately, once we grow up we become more sensible, and we want to get everything right, without being frivolous or wasting too much time; it's a bit like forcing ourselves to eat all of our broccoli before we're allowed to taste the ice cream, when sometimes, just sometimes, we really should have the ice cream first (with sprinkles).

Right now, I am a little overwhelmed by my Living Room. It looks like Winter; like I am settling in for a long nap with a cozy fire, warm plaid blankets, and lots of art and books. With daffodils starting to peek through the ground it feels wrong, and I am also feeling incredibly impatient. I don't want to  neatly label boxes and take my time trying to decide what to donate, keep and trash, I want to move things around and make it look pretty. I want instant gratification, and I want it now.

So, that's what I am going to do as soon as I finish this blog. I am going to ignore the rules (well, most of them) and take out what I don't like in the room anymore; a picture that has faded, a few too many rocks that I can't remember where I got them from, and a candle that I keep moving around (constantly hoping that one day I will learn to like the person who gave it to me). I don't mean to sound harsh, but I don't like to look at things that bother me (this could be open to interpretation I know, but that is the beauty of decorating. It is one of the easiest things to control in our lives, so why should we look at things that don't give us joy?)

In a couple of hours I know that I can pack up what I don't like, take the pictures off the walls, pile all my knick-knacks and books on the table, and move the furniture to one side. Then, I will spackle and paint the nail holes (most important, because otherwise I will just plonk it all back up in the same spot again, which defeats the whole process). And, if I am rushed and have to spackle with toothpaste, and the paint doesn't match exactly when I get up close without my glasses, that's okay. I am looking for something fresh and pretty in an afternoon, not perfection.

When I put it all back, it might not be a candidate for HouseBeautiful, but I make no apologies, and it will be just right for me...

Homemade Ice cream from Glamorous Glutton, and chairs from Lucy Merchant via Fresh Home.

I Heart Street Art

Do you remember when graffiti used to be the bad boy of art? The illegitimate way of expressing yourself in a place where no-one else could reach; spray cans shoved in coat pockets, and friends keeping watch as you leaned precariously over a bridge or ducked behind a newly built fence.

At first, my rebellious streak felt sad when graffiti started to cross over, but these artists were so talented that I couldn't help but admire what they had done. Painting gigantic pictures with a spray can on the side of a building is something I cannot even comprehend (I can barely spray a metal chair without clogging the nozzle, and I am sure the insect population has suffered because of my overzealous misting).   

I have always loved street art, and I think part of it might be because it seems impossible to me that someone could create something so amazing on such a ridiculous scale (never mind a surface that is far from perfect) and still have it make sense from the perspective of us mere, tiny mortals. (Good grief, I just realized there is probably math involved, which definitely rules me out).

Often commissioned, street art is emerging into the mainstream, but still finding its voice in the competitive, commercial world. It tends to be appreciated by companies who are not afraid to make a  statement. Boldness does speak, but it isn't always about shock value.
Some artists create work in areas where it often goes unnoticed; a time-consuming expression of who they are, or who they wish they could be. A quiet, forgotten place where they can paint for free; a poignant reflection of something inside them that is often thought-provoking, sometimes beautiful and always unexpected.

I don't quite understand why we don't use this type of advertising more often to get our point across; what could be better than hiring creative people to produce an original piece of art that is taller than any billboard and can happily navigate itself around windows and doors? So much more than a political statement or a clever advertisement, street art can be a reflection of where we are in the world, an archived moment in time, and an incredible source of inspiration.

We can go a lifetime without ever knowing what we are capable of, and drawing on any wall used to be frowned upon, but this is a new way of expressing ourselves, and I think we should celebrate it.

The street art above is in Rome, Italy, and was created by the artistic duo, Etam Cru.