Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Open Concept Living

   A woman gave me a new excuse as to why she couldn't buy my art.  "I love your work, but we live in an open concept house.  There just aren't any walls for art."
    She had me there.  I watch HGTV late at night.  It appears everyone wants open-concept living. Parents say they want to be able to watch their children as they cook.  The thrill of watching as walls are demolished 24/7 might be an addiction.  I do love it when something nasty falls out of the wall.
     When are these buyers going to realize they have been had.  I suspect, as soon as  their children become teenagers.
    My house is of an old 1970's-concept.  Apparently, if the trend continues, we will never be able to sell it.  We couldn't tear down walls without losing a bathroom and a staircase.  In fact, we added a french door to separate the living room from the family room. When my kids reached adolescence and seemed to be everywhere all at once, I craved solitude. A room of her own, a la Virginia Woolf.
     I might come to regret the demise of Open-Concept.  Building walls can't be as visceral an act as smashing walls.  Unless of course, it is on a border.

Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Hark the Herald...

                                 "Hark the Herald" © 2004 Cindy Packard Richmond

My husband and I lay in bed this morning talking about death.  We used to joke that it was a race to the finish to see who won the "non compos mentis"sweepstakes, leaving the other to deal with the mess.  I would sooner die than be left.  Yes, I am a coward.

So many of our friends are in grips of cancer, dementia or other horrors. So, are we  the lucky ones, the ones that got away.   No. We are a small island in a sea of despair. The waves are lapping at our shore.  Deep in our cells, nuggets of cancer (him) or dementia (me) are  biding their time.

  How does one die "peacefully" without the prelude of months of pain.