I live in a suburban house with three sons, a husband, and one emotionally needy French Bull dog.
Although I have come to truly embrace the philosophy that I don't have to decorate the inside of the house like an adult anymore, I still find myself bound by the code of certain conventions: roof, garage, heat, indoor plumbing, electricity, cable modem, and, most of all, operating inconspicuously within the confines of 21st century suburbia. That means getting kids to school, nagging about homework, and basically abiding by and teaching my kids to abide by, the social mores of mainstream society.
This is not an easy task for someone who is essentially very bohemian by nature.
I would have been very very happy to have just settled into an undeveloped loft thirty years ago and rattled around old warehouse space in NY. But, life took me the more conventional route about 25 years ago, and I manage to blend in. I make sure I manage to blend in because I also remember sadly a dear artist friend of mine whose two children were so unable to float between their very eccentric artist/bohemian lifestyle and the traditional society they lived in, that they both suffered nervous breakdowns. With that in mind, I keep my flakey house wild on the inside and understated on the outside, so that my kids can feel "normal" while still learning that everything is not always what meets the eye, and that creativity and independence are to be held in high esteem, even if somewhat tempered.
And then comes a story that makes my bohemian hippie mouth water--well, a little anyway. In today's House and Home section of the New York Times comes an article about a couple for whom art and love reigned supreme. Granted, I would never aspire to disrupting my happy family to follow an artistic quest, but I would not mind creating an abode in a similar fashion, although I would insist on indoor plumbing and cable modem.....
Check out "A Handmade Home." There is a wonderful slideshow of the homestead.
On a somewhat related note, and in keeping with my obsession about how quickly time is passing, comes an article about slowing down. If only I could actually do that--SLOW DOWN, I mean--and manage to get kids where they need to be on time. In the meantime. I can read about it. Check out "The Slow Life Picks Up SPeed.", also in today's NY Times. DO in NOW! Oops. I mean do it at an easy pace.
Man, I so need to slow down. I've turned into a honker lately. You know, one of those people who honks at others who are taking too much time at the light. It's a bad sign, and I know it.
I have some artist sensibilities, but much tempered in home and life.
Posted by: MotherReader | January 31, 2008 at 06:32 PM
MR, I am worse than a honker. I am a swearer. I am working on it, though, dammit! I swear. I mean, I promise.
Yes, we all need to slow down. But it's easier said than done.
Wine helps, though.
But not in the car, of course....
PS: Stop tempering those artistic instincts--or at least ease up on the tempering. Give in, give in...
Posted by: Barbara Johansen Newman | February 01, 2008 at 02:55 PM
The stained glass is beautiful! It's tough to slow down when kid and adult schedules need to be juggled. One of these days...Have a great weekend!
Posted by: Vivian | February 01, 2008 at 07:28 PM
WHOA...that home....I'm speechless.
(I think I saw a Mary Englebreit mug hanging on that tree...)
Posted by: kathy weller | February 10, 2008 at 04:20 PM
Barb, you've always got great posts- you know where I stand on some of these issues! OH, and by the way, you win! Go here:
http://studiodubois.com/liz/blog/?p=522
Posted by: LizDubois | February 13, 2008 at 02:50 PM