A few weeks ago I finally realized what’s wrong with my condo. Why I don’t feel happy when I’ve finished cleaning and tidying the rooms.
I don’t like my furniture. I do like the large oriental area rug in my living room that cost more than a month’s salary two years ago. I have some bits of art that I enjoy living with. But I keep thinking, are there any pieces of actual furniture that I might really mourn if I came home to find the place cleaned out by thieves? And coming up blank. OK, except for the two clean-lined 1960’s modern walnut bedroom pieces – double dresser and chest of drawers – that I bought at a secondhand store and stripped of gunky varnish. And my cute little CD cabinet.
Otherwise? If I ever move more than ten miles away? I’ll leave it all behind without an eyelash flicker.
I think it’s time I found my own style. I think I was developing one many years ago, but haven’t worked at it in a long time.
This could be fun.
It could also cost a boatload of money.