How did this happen? During the warmer months I did a lot of treasure hunting and rescuing of lovely vintage goods. My zeal was such that I'd collect all daylong with wild abandon, return home to the barn and dump everything off and then go back out, into the great wilderness of unfound treasures. The piles grew, and grew, unbeknownst to me, at an alarming rate. I was like a squirrel stashing it all away. Now that the weather has changed and I find myself homebound I'm realizing the magnitude of the monster I've created.
The dining hall.
"Has anyone seen the Eames chair?"
My genius office.
And that's just three rooms! I can however find quiet respite in selective viewing. Meaning, if I simply look at smaller vignettes within the space I can find some peaceful moments. For example, in my office I can single out this view:
Tunnel-vision, view above my desk.
A corner in the living room with fewer piles (did I mention that I'm an interior designer, heh).
Seemingly peaceful bedside.
Every horizontal surface is a magnet. This one is at least intriguing.
Just look up, above the fray.
A rusty bear who can still carry a tune. There's a lesson in there somewhere.
The fridge is uncharacteristically uncluttered!
The dishes are in order.
As long as the kitchen functions and I can still cook a meal then it can't be that bad. Right? Although we will have to eat on our laps for now. The dining table hasn't looked like this for months! ...
