Crafting A Life

In this second installment of the Inspire Not Imitate series, I’m introducing you to a woman who lives on the other side of the world from me, yet she has built a life that, from the select images she shares, has inspired me in so many different ways.

Her photography is breathtaking, but it is her subject matter that touched me so deeply. I have decided to use my Visceral Goosebump Nostalgia Test, VGNT for short, as the method of determining what is a passing fancy and what is fundamentally a part of who I am.

Understanding VGNT

Through the years I have discovered different physical reactions to things that I love, and continue to love for years to come. First, the Visceral Reaction – VR – this happens when I see something that produces a certain feeling in my gut. I can’t describe it, it isn’t butterflies or the heart in the stomach feeling. It is quite literally a gut reaction. I just know it when it happens. And through the years it consistently occurs in the following situations…

  • Walking through an antique mall and I encounter a booth that is adorned in all shades of off white, tan, gray, and brown. The products don’t matter as much as the feeling that comes from the collection; however the collection is generally old textiles, wooden items such a boxes, bowls, stools, chairs and tables, even books, jewelry and china…the main factor is the absolute lack of bright colors and extraordinary texture found in layering such items.
  • Hiking in the woods or a forest, especially in the fall or late winter before the new growth begins to appear.
  • Old furniture that has endured many lives and transformations, but still stands ready to be used and loved once again.
  • Dark, cozy spaces that invite one to rest and have a conversation, or to be alone in the corner with a book, or even better, a spindle and wool or yarn and a crochet hook.
  • Big windows to see the world outside.
  • All things authentically natural, worn, used, rusted, and old. I’m not much for mass manufactured things that just look old.
  • Chickens – I want chickens.
  • Trees in the winter…barren yet with the promise of new life. They are some of God’s finest sculptures.
  • Trees that have fallen and are returning to the earth.
  • Rocks and twigs there is no rational explanation, but I must have them around me.
  • Handmade. I will take something made by hand over mass produced any day. I love the human imperfections found in these humble items.

All these things evoke a sense of coziness, comfort and safety that speaks to the very core of who I am. They also represent what I value. There is so much in this world I could do without…these are not among those.

Then there is the Goosebump Reaction – GbR – this is simple. When I see something that causes goosebumps to rise up on my arms, I know that it is special. Not everything that elicits a GbR is worthy of becoming a permanent part of my life, but it deserves a second glance. This is generally for individual items rather than an overall environment. Colors, artwork, collectible items, dishes, even some furniture pieces, can fall in this category. The thing with the GbR is that it often depends on outside influences. Pantone has a color of the year every year so I find myself having a GbR to the color of the year. It might come to be a VR, but only time will tell. Furniture is the biggest mistake that can be made if only the GbR is applied to the purchase. GbRs come and go and are fun. A passing fancy that might one day become a permanent resident.

And finally there is the NR. The Nostalgia Reaction obviously occurs when a fond memory or a comfortable feeling is created when seeing something that was a part of my youth. This is where my fondness for mid century modern furniture comes into play. I love to look at it as it reminds me of my childhood. It does not generally produce a VR, so it is not where I would make a large investment. The fun thing with NR is that small items, used seasonally to decorate, are perfect things to enjoy a little nostalgic whimsy.

With all this in mind, I introduce you to Ainslee of My Suburban Farm (@mysuburbanfarm). Thank you so much for allowing me to use your photos and story.

My Suburban Farm

This was the image I most vividly remember. I had been following her for a while when I saw this. Her photos caused a VR from the moment I discovered Ainslee’s Instagram feed. I was so moved I sent her a private message gushing about her lifestyle. From there I am sure I scrolled back looking at everything. I may have to ask her for permission to print this and hang it in my studio one day. It opened a door into my heart that will never close. I did not list pitchers and such in my list of VR items, but I adore them and love to collect them. Especially old white ones. As a crocheter the idea of crafting my own hooks from tree branches never crossed my mind, and yet, here before my eyes someone was doing just that. It seems they sell out as fast as she puts them up on her website. Now, she is not a crochet hook carver for a living, but she is generous enough to sell them when she can. Is she living this life in some fabulous country location? No, she’s doing it in suburban Melbourne, Australia.

I could post every picture from her feed, I love them all so much, but I will restrain myself and encourage you to visit her yourself. This photo is the grid view of her page. I think you will immediately recognize my VR.

I just simply cannot add anything to this. The photo says it all. I told Ainslee that I could just see myself sitting in that round chair, contentedly crocheting as my chickens stroll in and out. I feel connected to nature and God when I look at these pictures. Everything here is from Him. I love it all.

From Inspiration To Home

This is the photo that truly started my personal decorating revolution. I long for a space that is just mine. I did not choose my home – my husband already owned it when we married – but I want a space that is all mine and this is how I want it to feel. I am still planning on a writing/fiber studio in the backyard.

I loved the feeling of this so much I used it as the inspiration for the colors in my living room. Our home, built in 1983, has a great room with a slightly open kitchen and dining. There is just enough separation of the rooms to make me happy, but it is all open and flows nicely.

This is my entryway which was inspired by the Ainslee’s shed. I have my fiber art pieces as well as family items and the all important mirror for last minute lipstick checks. The vignette on the table changes from time to time, but the wall is set. I love to come home to this.

On the opposite wall is a lawyer’s bookcase filled with some of our NR items. Hanging above is a piece I crocheted using giant alpaca rope type yarn – a gift from my brother – mounted on a piece of driftwood I found on a beach in Maine and carefully packed in my suitcase for the trip to Texas. The framed print on the right, a gift from my mother-in-law and the one of the left, a gift from my granddaughter. This is all about family, love and memories.

These are all inspired by those first images I discovered on My Suburban Farm. Seeing her gorgeous photos helped me cut through all of the other stuff that I thought I loved to discover my true self so that I could express it for myself. And, isn’t that what creating a home should be all about? I think so.

My husband’s wildlife prints, a mounted deer skull, a beloved stick I found and drug home, and off in the corner a collection of rocks and more twigs in a vase. The table was my inlaw’s and I loved it from the moment I first saw it. The last picture is a close up of the wood. The gentlemen’s chair was painted a hideous green and was going to get left for the trash as we cleaned out my father-in-law’s house after he passed. I brought it home and had it stripped and refinished. Such a treasure.

Old suitcases. They make my heart skip a beat. Where have they gone? What have they seen? What stories could they tell? The two on the bottom belonged to my parents. I carried the brown one when I flew across the country and got engaged. The marriage didn’t last, the suitcase endures.

The wear and tear of my absolute favorite table. I’ve since cleaned it somewhat. The things that won’t come off are merely memories of things from the past. I don’t see them as flaws, I see them as character marks. A life well lived shows a few signs of wear and tear. That’s how we know we’ve done it right.

Make It Your Own

However you choose to create a home, I hope you find inspiration in how I finally found authenticity. It is your home and it should reflect you and your lifestyle. Cluttered or minimalist, colorful or not, if it makes you feel content then it is home.

Not sure what I’m writing about tomorrow…but I will be back!

Until then, keep looking up, embrace today, and go find some fun!

Discombobulated

It is wonderful Wednesday and I’m discombobulated. I had lunch plans with a friend, but between the weather and a nasty headache, which I am hoping is nothing more than barometric pressure change, we moved our date to tomorrow. I have a free morning ahead of me and all I feel like doing is taking medicine and going back to bed. A decision I would only regret tonight when I struggle to sleep.

So, I am going to try to find the wonderful in this dreary day despite the rocky beginning.

First, I have to share the joy that is my youngest granddaughter.

This little imp goes to sleep at night listening to ocean waves with her purple fairy lights wearing a unicorn sleep mask while snuggling with a bear. She is the most adorable mixture of miniature teenager (she has 15 & 12 year old sisters) and little girl. Her Christmas gift list included makeup and stuff for her baby dolls. I love it! She is coming over this weekend for some alone time with us and I am working on activities as the weather will keep us indoors. I see crafts, cooking and manicures on our agenda.

The other wonderful news is that my car passed inspection! I am driving a 2004 Toyota Camry inherited from my father-in-law. Big John didn’t drive very much so I only have 136,000 miles on it and I know the engine on these cars is good for 200,00 or more.

I love cars and I really want another one, but there are financial issues to consider and a granddaughter who really wants this car next October when she turns sixteen. Well, let me rephrase that, she wants a Tesla, but she will take my car as it beats driving her mom’s minivan. So, we are babying it along hoping that nothing major goes wrong. The air conditioning system died a few months ago and fortunately cool weather soon followed. We live in the suburbs of Houston, Texas which is a hot messy swamp most of the year. I’m doing ok now, but in a couple of months when the temperatures start climbing we will need to get this situation fixed in a hurry. Mimi does not love to sweat.

So, here I sit, struggling to think of what to write next. I’m in my chair, wearing jammies, looking outside at the drizzle falling from the tree branches; birds flitting along the edge of the fence looking for a tasty snack; the sound of the clock ticking away the seconds of the day; Maggie sleeping soundly on a pillow next to me. Some days there contain more wonderful things than others and that is ok. We aren’t promised wonderment every day of our lives, in fact quite the opposite. For most of us today is a typical, just a regular day, doing our normal tasks. The secret is finding the wonderment in the ordinary.

And really, this is wonderful. I am warm, dry, fed, and content. I am blessed.

Until tomorrow, keep looking up, embrace today and go have some fun!

Civic Duty

Disclaimer: This is Tuesday’s post that never published. Please forgive the chronological confusion!

As I shared yesterday I have jury duty today. I am waiting for the process to begin and thought I would start an ongoing post, waiting for the end of the day to publish.

Sleepless In Fort Bend County

Diet Coke? Too much screen time? Anxiety? Whatever the cause sleep eluded me most of the night.

The truth is likely a combination of all of those things. It is going to be a long day.

I sit here watching a film about the fact or fiction about the courts, how jurors are selected and the historical context for this responsibility. It is humbling. And though none of us really want to be here, someone is counting on us.

Continue reading “Civic Duty”