i'm as voracious about consuming images as i am about consuming a can of pringles. when in a new environment, i acquaint myself with every nook and cranny, take the tour and soak everything in from all vantage points. life's all about the details for me. when i first went to paris i was literally intoxicated by the beauty that leapt out of every crevice of the place. it was overwhelming. barcelona's the same.but i digress..
so we park in front of a gorgeous place in quaint neighbourhood. inside, the colour palette was muted, there was a great flow to the space, it felt wide and white. the objects in the cabinets were made of unadorned like materials with accent pieces in large glass jars.white sofas in many of the rooms were accented by tasteful yet comfy cushions. every object was pure in terms of colour, geometry and material. each object simply was what is was-a mirror, a chair, a bowl.
the modern, intellectual feel of the place immediately served to create a rough sketch of the woman i thought i would meet-put together, monied, well schooled in quality. unfairly, the sketch also included an anticipatory sense that the conversation might be less than intimate.
the woman behind the vision greeted us in comfy (yet high quality)clothes and carried herself in a way that instantly communicated she was also comfortable in her own skin.
as i got to know her, i kept trying to reconcile the muted, staged surroundings with the grounded person she was revealing herself to be. being a sentimental decorator where everything in my home has a story (within a tasteful colour scheme of course!) i have a spontaneously negative and judgemental reaction to all things modern and minimalist. i am so attached to my things and how they make my house a home that i simply can't wrap my head around the idea of living among objects that someone else picked out from the latest chic boutique.
as i was openly welcomed by this woman and was able to watch her interact in her home like someone who loved every angle of it (vs. someone who liked to keep things "just so" for company) i was motivated to take a second look. upon closer inspection,the black and white prints on the mantle turned out to be her own shots from a trip abroad. as we toured the place, i was pleased to note a pile of papers on a desk in a corner on the third floor. "i'm home!" i thought to myself, suddenly feeling the kinship i was looking for. from that point on i fully relaxed and took myself off edit mode. frustrate myself sometimes when i can't just let go from the get go.
the whole thing just made me aware of how i seem to need to see something of myself in someone else in order to feel at ease around them. silly me.
