Writing a Room

Over the years, most of the rooms in my house are like Goldilocks' chair--they fit me and my life just right.  But  one room looks like a gathering of strangers who can't quite figure out what to say to each other.

Or--to switch metaphors--it's like a book with chapters but no narrative arc to hold them all together.

Professional designers start with a plan and go from there.  Random-style me, I start with things I like and then figure out the plan.

I chose a noisy fabric for the sofa and a Mission-style chair.   A sofa is a BIG thing and it dominates the room.  This one started with a hundred-year-frame that Lee turned into a sofa with my fabric and his foam.

Then I bought two chairs I love designed by San Antonio artist Jane Bishop--black and white and green,  black birds on their backs.

On one wall is a large hutch cabinet in Colonial blue; on another a David Marsh long table with three folk art prints over it; on another a patch of colorful Mexican coconut masks. Then there's this antique table with yellow chairs, black and white seats.   The room isn't a natural beauty, it still has popcorn ceiling and an odd shape, but it's on its way--to something.

When I chose these fabrics, my energy was high and I knew I could pull all the parts together--though I hadn't a clue how.  Then travel and other things stalled the project.  The pieces need some common ground on which to converse--in the form of a large rug to unite the disparate elements and a fresh coat of paint to replace the tired Tuscan yellow.

So I called Janet and asked her if she'd come help me see what my eyes are too tired to see.

Janet has a great instinct for decor and color, and she inspires me. If she paints a room on Tuesday and doesn't like the effect on Wednesday, she repaints it on Thursday!  She knows that white is not one color but a family of colors, some leaning toward yellow, some toward gray, some toward brown.    And if some piece of fabric or furniture no longer pleases, she swaps it out.

Her house is beautifully Zen-like with neutrals and whites, grays and blacks, with color on the walls in art work.  Mine is more done in Crayola palette--inspired by primary colors in the crayon box.

"So what do you want the room to be?" Day asked her as we were talking rugs and paint.  "Do you want it to be playful or relaxing or what?"  (All that, I thought.)

Finally, I came up with a term: Bohemian-Lite.  I like a room that looks pulled together, unified, and fun--and right now, this room looks like the toys are scattered about on a bare floor.  With Janet's help, I hope to take this rough draft of elements and make it a story.

I'll let you know when it all clicks.