Can interiors be humorous? Haaahaha….of course they can. Have you ever paid personality fees? I believe in them. Even today in my own home, I refuse to think in terms of resale value.
I’ve heard it said that it’s never too late to have a happy childhood. I’d like to propose a deeper perspective: that to have a meaningful childhood you must grow up first, re-parent yourself, and then gift yourself the childhood you have always wanted. The real childhood you wanted, the one with all the love and acceptance. It’s work. It’s grief work. First you have to grieve the life you haven’t lived, the life you thought you wanted. You have to get to where you can earnestly be grateful for the life you have.
As an adolescent I painted murals on my bedroom walls. One day as I was painting a tree up the wall and out onto the ceiling, my Mom walked in. She did a double take and asked, “what are you doing?” and I looked at her perplexed. Was this a trick question?! “I’m…uh…painting a mural.” “Oh. Okay.” She set down my folded laundry and walked back out.
In many ways my childhood was a dream. We lived in a big old house on the Detroit River. We had cool cars and a built-in swimming pool and boats docked at the end of the yard. We had dogs and cats and rabbits and even a horse among our menagerie of pets. We had a sugar bowl of cocaine in the kitchen cupboard. We had Taco Tuesdays because there were often no parents around, so we took cash out of the drawer to feed ourselves. We had everything you could ever wish for as a child, and much you wouldn’t.
I’m an old woman now, and I wouldn’t change any of it. Early in life I knew the world would never make any sense, and I knew that it wasn’t my fault. I learned to trust my intuition. I learned to be content alone; I taught myself to draw. I became a voracious reader. I learned to think fast on my feet. I learned to love art. I learned the value of anger – it can get you to your grief, where all the grist is found.
“A happy childhood is the worst possible preparation for life.” Kinky Friedman
A Painterly Home 