We've lived together since age nineteen, broke college students with a TV stand made of MDF and flower pots. Our generous parents bought us nicer things over the years-- things we picked out, like a bed, a couch, a dining room table, a crib. Other things we've made ourselves. My husband built some bookshelves and a train table. I made some curtains. I framed some pictures.
|credit bob travis|
It's a fundamental flaw in my brain. I just can't visualize how old things will look in new places. I can't judge whether a dresser is short enough to go under a window, or if three paintings will look good together, until they've been moved into place. It always takes longer than I want. Far longer than I expect.
This rewrite feels the same way. I have these pieces and they're pretty solid. I can tweak them, I can reframe them, I can even strip them down for parts and make something new. But I'm not sure about the dimensions. Will this scene fit here? Can this part stand on its own or do I need to put supports under it? I just painted this wall and it was lovely! Why is it all scratched up now?!?
Sometimes I am tempted to burn it all down. Pull off the roof, knock down the walls, rip up the floors and cut skylights in all the ceilings.
I don't know. At some point, I have to stop moving things around and accept that I've done the best I can with what I have. It's not perfect, but I like it, and future owners can do what they want with the rest.
Except for the disco ball. I'll probably take that with me.