Recently I posted a journal entry about being diagnosed with ADHD, and while that is true, the writing sounded whiney to me. Have I mentioned that I am now coming out of a depression? I’ve been back on antidepressants for almost a month. I feel like a different person. Truthfully, the SSRI’s don’t take away the sadness or gloomy outlook – and I wouldn’t want them to. I know when they are working because I first have a physiological response: my shoulders come down, my chest expands, I breathe easier. My joints ache less. The nightmares abate and I can sleep restfully. I’m calmer in every situation.
And then the healing can begin. My thinking begins to untangle – not unravel like a dumpster fire in a flash flood! But untangle – and make sense again. I can follow one thread to the next in a cohesive way; I can think straight again. I can think. I can reason.
Next come the creative urges. Beauty excites me again…I hadn’t noticed when that had stopped happening. Ahhhhh….I have inklings of delight again. The medication allows me to relax just enough to sleep, to dream, to imagine. And that is how it works. It doesn’t take away my frustrations, my difficulties, or my grief. It allows me to cope with them. To sort through them, prioritize them, and plan for productive change. I can love my life again.
I don’t remember the first time I realized how glad I am to be here now – to have been born exactly when and where I was born. This way, baby. To be exactly who I am. I think it could have been grade school – but certainly by junior high, I became aware of feeling gratitude…and enjoying every little detail of every little thing around me. When my physiology gets turned around here and now get reversed to now and here – which is nowhere. Pardon the word soup, but I can be silly again, too.
By it’s very nature, mental illness is immaturity in action. Acting silly isn’t. The difference is presence. The difference is being childlike, not childish. I used to joke when people said something about entering their second childhood – that I’ve never left my first. Seriously. Never stop being childlike, delighted by every little detail of life.
It’s looking like this week’s posts might jump all over the place…because, mine. This has turned into the Cliff Note version of my Morning Pages journal and I’m all over the place this week.
Linda says “there’s not a style,” but I disagree. There is her style. She literally dreamed about the house before she ever saw it. And like her collection of hares – not bunny rabbits! – she is fierce. And gracious. This is one of the longest videos I will ever post. I’m always looking for short videos to illustrate my writing. But this home tour is irresistible. I like irresistible. Follow along with me here and we will pick this apart and see what exciting, creative tips and solutions we can apply in our own sacred spaces. Because this space is sacred. This is home as altar.
There are collections all over the house – and every one of the pieces hold meaning. Many of them started early in her life, and began with her parents. As one Linda says to the other Linda, “you are a seeker,” and oh, what a lovely response: “I’m curious about other ways to live in this world.” Well that says it all to me – how this home is the rich expression of a life lived with curiosity. This is what home is for.
Home is to act as a daily reminder that we are “in the cage, or out of the cage…” in our attitude and action. That speaks volumes about this curious woman, homemaker and gardener. She is in the world but not of it. Where am I today? Where are you?
When asked what she is looking for in her travels, she says, “I’m looking for an experience, and the things find me.” Don’t put your things on display – put your experiences out as daily reminders of your memories. Let your memories serve you, as reminders of days when you were out of the cage, winged & free. When your curiosity got the better of you and led you to places and people unknown. And I’m here to tell you that those places can be where you sit this minute. Like when I used to dance at Detroit Roller Wheels, and we’d yell “where’s the party at?!” and be answered, “right here under my shoes!” (Where did you think Michael learned to dance like that?)
You will see that this home itself hasn’t changed much since the 90’s…and yet it would show beautifully in any of today’s publications. It’s beautiful and functional. Have you noticed me turning green?! Oh how envious I am of that kitchen. Saltillo tiles, big window over the sink, storage, counter space into next week. That and the Josef Frank wallpaper in the guest bath…my heart is fluttering. Here she tells us that she has 1800 square feet and she lives in the entire house. Yep. I get it. First of all, that’s just about the perfect square footage, 1600 – 1800 (for me…alone) and yes, we all ought to live fully in our entire space. There is no moss growing under her feet.
Renowned American architect and best selling author Gil Shafer takes us along to his vacation retreat in Maine. Shafer is known for his reverence to the historical beauty of traditional east coast style. I grew up in a Cape Cod cottage on water, and it would be decades before I acknowledged it’s profound effect on my psyche. I agree with Gil Shafer when he says, “you live differently in different places.”
Here he took the existing building, which he bought for the setting itself, and worked with it’s less than ideal structure by embracing it’s strengths. I relate to this approach as I, too, live in a mid-century cottage which I bought because of it’s location and setting, known as the vernacular. Mid-mod, as it’s called for short, is my least favorite style of architecture. It’s right up there in my book with overhead lighting and open concept floor plans – which is to say that I have absolutely no use for it at all. In my book it’s in the chapter titled What Were They Thinking?
Mid-Mod is experiencing a huge revival. But then, ya know, America is simultaneously experiencing the dumbing down of our culture and the fall of our empire. I’ll leave you to draw the obvious parallels. You might have heard me say “meanwhile, back at the ranch…” because, let’s face it, mid-mod IS a form of ranch, neither offering much architectural interest. They sprung up in the building boom of post war industrial America for a reason, mainly that it was fast and cheap to build. Think plywood. That’s one of the reasons it was popular in the deserts of the southwest – it’s termite resistant. Then all of a sudden some opportunist decided it’s a “style” and set about convincing us that it’s desirable.
That said, my little home is well built. It was constructed of brick and concrete in the year 1955. The scoundrel I bought it from (NOT Gil Shafer) was in the process of flipping it, and buying it unfinished made it affordable to me. However, he had purchased it from the estate of the builder’s deceased wife and proceeded to gut it, taking out most of the original features. Now it’s a sad no-style-at-all house. And I absolutely love it, albeit primarily for the views. Though much smaller and humbler than the home in the video I do appreciate that my home has large picture windows from which to enjoy nature. I have coyotes and wild turkeys peering in at me from the deck, as if to say, “whatcha got to eat?” An occasional bobcat racing through the backyard, a meandering bear, huge flocks of birds migrating up the coastline, and of course, families of deer all year round. I’ve been intimidated right backwards in the door by a startled buck huffing and stomping it’s hooves, and been eyeballed too closely by a pair of hunting bald eagles on the roof.
My roofline also extends out further at the top, mimicking the look of a ship’s prow. Although almost a mile from a port town and the water, I am perched high on a hill near the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. And almost completely surrounded by water that includes Lake Michigan, inland Crystal Lake, and Betsie Bay. I live between two historic lighthouses. The summers are heaven on earth and the winters are…daunting. But quiet. Thankfully my sturdy cottage is a formidable fortress against the elements. I can adapt the architecture. The 45 degree driveway pitch, not so much…you’ll need 4 wheel drive to visit.
Watching this video gives me so many new ideas. I’ll be going out for a can of paint tomorrow. But I especially love the suggestion of writing my house a love letter. How about you? Let’s write love letters to our homes, and let’s begin with gratitude.
Gil Shafer is one of my favorite design authors. His books, gorgeously published by Rizzoli, are available here through my Amazon Affiliate link: Home At Last, https://amzn.to/3B5PUZw; The Great American House, https://amzn.to/4gtBMd4; A Place to Call Home, https://amzn.to/3XCej1K
And here are some budget friendly ideas taken from Gil Shafer’s inspiration in this video. How about those bed curtains? For a fraction of the price of curtains, I would make them from painter’s dropcloths: https://amzn.to/4gftrJR. I love the sisal rugs throughout this home. Here is one example in a 4′ X 6′ size: https://amzn.to/3TqDqSH. I have an antique bottle that I’m making into a lamp, but it isn’t costing much less than this beauty: https://amzn.to/4d4Phge. But I am smitten with the mercury glass lamp we see in the bedroom. Here is a similar lamp I’m coveting:https://amzn.to/3Tob5wt. And you can never have too many wooden trays: https://amzn.to/3zkBfcr, or storage baskets: https://amzn.to/3MEXqx4. Have fun!
Just in the last few years myself and my only child, now middle-aged himself, have realized that we are on the autism spectrum. And probably ADHD as well. Neither of us have been clinically diagnosed, but I’m sure that wouldn’t be hard to do. It has certainly provided a missing piece of life’s puzzle for me.
My son and I enjoy watching certain slow moving television shows together. One of our favorites was The Detectorists, arguably one of the best television shows ever written and produced. Absolutely brilliant. It’s 3 seasons and one Christmas movie ( “why not more? she cries!” ) It is poignant, irritating, and hilarious. With a little mysticism mixed in for intrigue. As fans will attest, there is some magical ingredient that made us fall in love with life while watching; your heart can’t not open. All the characters are fabulously quirky, but the main character seems obviously autistic, and he is clairaudient. He thinks he needs a metal detector, when in fact he is the detector. Our kinda show.
So I wasn’t at all surprised when my son bought himself a metal detector and began exploring the local beaches. It’s only been a few short months, and nothing much as of yet…just a bunch of pull tabs and washers. What is up with all the washers? Then I found Annie Lighthart and she explained why she always has a washer in her pocket:
“If I have helped one fainting robin unto it’s nest again, I have not lived in vain.” – Emily Dickinson
“Like art, revolutions come from combining what exists from what has never existed before.” – Gloria Steinem
Jean Banas seems to be onto something. She has certainly stumbled upon the true fountain of youth. Such a sweet little old lady…hahahahaaaa! Not. Sweet, yes. Old, maybe. Lady, mmmmm, okay, I’ll give her that. I wouldn’t want to mess with her in a scuffle. She began painting in her 70’s.
She reminds me of my Mother, who didn’t live to see the age of 70. She was tiny and soft-spoken and easy going. And a force to be reckoned with. Let’s not assume that “little old ladies” are ever what they seem. I have a confession: when I started watching some YouTube videos about older artists, I expected to find them discovering their creativity in their sixties and 70’s. Retired, children grown. Making cute things in the basement or garage…I was not prepared for the magnificent inspiration of many, many older artists. Even well into their 90’s and over a hundred years of age – and anything but retiring. I feel as if I’ve only just begun to uncover some tantalizing promise of renewal and rejuvenation. Join me!
This week I want to take you along to meet some artists. Most of them I do not know personally. I met them the same way you are about to, via the magic of YouTube. How old was I when YouTube began? I’m not sure, but I sure am glad it came along when it did. It has certainly enriched my life and I count it high on the list of things I am grateful for. Since my teen years I have subscribed to magazines and have always been grateful that I was born in such a time as this – when the publishing industry was thriving. Of course magazines, at least the affordable shelter magazines that have inspired me most of my life, have become a rare commodity. Like much in our culture, the cost to produce them has become prohibitive. Along comes a new publishing medium – because we are information addicts, after all. And now that so many of us are learning to live in insolation it is another way to connect. You might be surprised to know that I’ve met wonderful people and had some very meaningful conversations through connections I’ve made on YouTube. People are infinitely creative and resourceful.
You will notice a pattern in the artists I choose to showcase this week. For one thing, they all have grey hair. Perhaps we will visit younger artists soon, but right now I am obsessed with older people like myself telling the stories of how they reinvented their lives. Damn they are strong. They work in different mediums, styles and genres. They are messy and they are wise. You’ll notice they all have a glimmer in their eye. They have a lot to say and aren’t afraid to say it. They aren’t afraid. I like that about them. I want to be more like each one of them when I grow up.
Who said “Remember, ultimately, it will be the artists who save us.”? I did; I said it. You’ll recognize that quote if you’ve known me any length of time. I’ve been saying it for decades, in conversations, on social media, in my writing. I mean it, too. Let me tell you why I believe it is true, and why I think history proves it.
Artists are the truest reporters of the culture they are living in. They have never fit in, and they never will. They observe subtle, often unspoken, patterns. Long before we see them in everyday life. I’m not sure why that is the case. Perhaps by the very nature of the traits that make them artists they are slow moving, intuitive, and sensitive to nonverbal communication. They find ways to communicate that will bypass the obvious, that will sneak in the backdoor of our mind and get the point across before our beliefs have had a chance to object or rationalize. Think of all of Joni Mitchell’s brilliant lyrics. “Richard got married to a figure skater and he bought a dishwasher and a coffee percolator and he drinks at home now most nights with the tv on and all the house lights left up bright.” You instinctively know exactly what is going on.
This vulnerable transparency is true of visual artists; it is certainly true of musicians, and it is true in the healing arts. Where intellect and education will stretch to conjure a solution, a cure…intuition picks up and extends a loving offer: try this. It doesn’t have to make sense. And something inside us, and our body, recognizes the truth of it.
I remember a fever induced dream. Convalescing in my bedroom during a long illness, I looked longingly out the window – and saw a horse walking down the street. Oh, dear, I thought, someone’s horse has escaped. I grabbed an apple from the bowl on the dining table and ran down the stairs and out into the street, extending my arm to lure the horse. That’s when I realized it was wild, ghost-like, not from around here. The horse smelled the apple and nodded for me to eat it, and I woke. I knew I would begin to heal now, and that apples held some nutritional element I needed for that. I’m not sure that has anything to do with being an artist; however I did get right up and eat an apple. An artist trusts their intuition. They inherently know that God, or whatever you want to call spirit or a higher power, is at play in our lives all the time. And the more we honor that the healthier we will be.
Whether history being unearthed on cave walls or Lady Gaga telling us God makes no mistakes and we were born this way, the artists carry the declaration of our existence, of our why, of our “YES, and I will not be denied.” Because as the poet David Whyte reminds, the world was made to be free in.
Scottish artist Jane Lindsay exemplifies what I have talked about in recent posts – making your home uniquely yours, and that it doesn’t need to cost much at all. Look at her beautiful things that delight and amuse her, even when broken and glued together. Maybe moreso broken and glued together, because as she says, she loves things that mean something.
Never mind Jane obviously won the lottery in heaven when they were passing out good skin. She talks about when she turned 50 during her children’s teen years, and now they’re grown…she defies age. Does living the life of an artist in the Scottish countryside have something to do with that? As I’ve been following her for a few short months now, I know that she, too, lives with chronic disease. She sure doesn’t show it. She is gracious and delightful.
Her home is chock full of creative ideas. I’m going to steal some of her quirky sign ideas and make my own. And yes, Jane…we will “s’cuse the mess.”
I went to Amazon and was able to custom order a vintage-style metal sign like the one on her wall. Link here: https://amzn.to/3A91liS Remember that as an affiliate I may earn a small commission on anything you purchase through my blog, and thank you. Here is the book Jane references, The Not So Big House: https://amzn.to/3YueVax If you’re nearby, I’d be glad to lend you my copy. I’ve referenced it for years. I love the bright yellow reading lamp she has in her alcove. I couldn’t find us a yellow one, but I did find a great one with coppery accents, here: https://amzn.to/4d4KhZL. And last but not least, how about those stick on letters under paint with a favorite song or poem line?! https://amzn.to/46ve7UQ Thanks for the inspiration, Jane!
Let’s go to school with color expert, designer and self-proclaimed hoarder Patrick O’Donnell. Here he shows us his enchanting home, a “typical 70’s ranch” he transformed into a country retreat with paint and wallpaper. He walks us through his 10 Design Rules, including essentials like How to Hide Your Jackie Collins. And Perk Up Your Pelmet. Betcha didn’t know you needed this!
Let’s recreate some of these design elements on a budget! I will be finding a place in my home for this beautiful peel & stick wallpaper: https://amzn.to/4cfIoYV Remember, as an Amazon Affiliate I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. And Thank you for using the links here. Now let’s hang this green majolica leaf plate (my favorite) on that wallpaper: https://amzn.to/4fwLdYO. I’ve also hung paper plates and even used them in the back of a shelf to highlight the dishes in front of them. My new favorite are these Caspari paper placemat hung on the wall: https://amzn.to/3YuvBif, layered under white cabbage ware plates: https://amzn.to/4fvhwr2. Now we’re getting there!
Wheat Sheaf, the style of chandelier he has, was popular during the 70’s and usually paired with Duncan Fife or Colonial style furnishings. I’d actually prefer this in our room: https://amzn.to/4d6n35G. That will get us a big impact for a modest investment. If you don’t have an upholstered headboard, treat yourself. They’re great for sitting up in bed reading, which I love to do. And they’ve become much more affordable, like this one: https://amzn.to/4c8gNZW. Again, a great deal of comfort and style for a reasonable investment. And now, you can easily change out your look seasonally with the new stretchy slipcovers: https://amzn.to/3LL1Kuq. We need a good reading lamp and we’re ready for guests. I have this one and I love it: https://amzn.to/46uExpK…Paddy, your room is ready!
sometimes, quite literally. Why are we so afraid to express ourselves? I’ve always been a maximalist. Really, from the time I was a little kid. I was in grade school or junior high when my best friend nicknamed me “the perpetual arranger.” Keep rearranging it until it relaxes you and tickles your fancy.
I have also never had any budget for decoration. I’ve been the thrift queen since high school, shopping at St. Vincent de Paul, garage sales, and the Goodwill for clothes and jewelry and lamps and rugs and cute little chairs. And when I am not wearing the green velvet jacket I don’t hang it in the closet. What a waste that would be. I drape it over the shoulders of a chair. I hang necklaces on a lamp, I pin found feathers and postcards from friends to the lampshade. I’ll drop today’s beach stone finds in the bathroom sink. A friend once asked me how I clean the sink with the stones in the way…and don’t they get toothpaste on them? I responded “they love it.” Who told you the rules?
Hutton Wilkinson says the worst thing a house can be is boring. I couldn’t agree more. Design mentor Alexandra Stoddard calls taupe boring, “…the insidious, evil, creeping taupe.” Taupe. Who needs it? Just say no. Let your house express you. Don’t you want to walk out to your kitchen in the morning and be delighted? Come home from your yearly physical and feel renewed? Let your soul play and sing here – here – where it is for you. One of my life goals is to become increasingly brave and eccentric – and embellish everything. Stand right there a minute…
A Painterly Home 