Building my nest

Today, while looking around the bland rented magnolia box that I call home, I realised something.

I have always longed… no, ached… for my own bricks and mortar, a space for our family to make its mark. I have dreamed of buying an unloved, decrepit little place that would need so much work we’d have to live on-site in a caravan while we remodelled it inside and out! We’d toast marshmallows on an open fire in the fireplace while we talked about how we’d breathe life into its empty shell. The kids would get to draw all over the wallpaper in their rooms before we tore it all down. We’d roll away mouldy threadbare carpets to discover what lay beneath. We’d get really excited, get it exactly the way we wanted it, and then when we had finally finished we would feel at home, settled and content.

But it dawned on me today that I would never “finish” a project like this because what I really love is the process of creating a space to do life in. It’s the thrill of simply rearranging the sofas, then realising they were better the way they were, then thinking “oh well, it was a good opportunity to get the hoover in!” It’s the excuse to make curtains to fit the windows in a new house, and needing some light shades because the old place had tacky chandeliers. I love the challenge of bringing personality and colour into a room to give it ambience, without picking up a paintbrush (well, maybe just to paint a colourful canvas…). After a while the artex and clashing carpets become invisible to me, as I imagine all our renovated ebay junk shop furniture finds one day positioned in my beautiful dream home…

I could live my whole life wishing and wanting after that house. We could plough all the money we ever have as a family into that dream, but I’m so happy I realised today that the house is not really what I’m longing for. It's the creative journey.

And so I choose to dive even deeper into my Creative Experimental Life. That is all.