Day 346. Wishful Thinking

I’ve wanted to live in a loft since I was about eleven or twelve years old.  I don’t know where I got the idea.  A real artist’s loft.  Not a modern take on a loft.  And it’s dream homealways alluded me.  I’m still wanting.  And waiting.  Not that I haven’t looked.

It’s not something I dwell on.  Certainly don’t think about it everyday.  But since reading Tuesday’s WordPress Daily Prompt, I can’t get it out of my mind:  “You win a contest to build your dream home.  Draft the plans.”

Yeah, what I’m talking about is in an old warehouse, or factory.  Twenty-foot ceilings, inside.  Minimum.  Brick walls.  A wall or two of big windows, preferably rounded at the top.  Concrete floors.  Or wide, scuffed  Continue reading

Day 78. Colour Me …

The other day, the author of a blog I follow wrote about colour.  It made me think.  Ever since my trip to India, I cannot get enough of the colour turquoise.  Not the pale, watery version.

The deep, bright, vibrant, intense shade.  It’s the colour painted on my bedroom walls.  Chotchkies I collect.  Pillows, tossed on a daybed in my living room.  Sweaters.  T-shirts.  Even my wallet.  And my toothbrush.  I’m drawn to it, like a bee to honey.

It just makes me feel good.  It makes me smile.  And it warms me up.

Before I became obsessed with turquoise, it was celadon green.  Pale, soft and relaxing, celadon isn’t just a colour.  It’s also the name given to ceramics which originated in 13th century China, and were glazed in that particular shade of green.

It’s a very calming colour; and in my  condo, my living and dining room walls were celadon.  Whenever I stepped into those rooms, it was like letting out a huge sigh of relief.  A polar opposite of what I’m living in, now. Continue reading