Envisioning the New Nest

Decorating, for me, begins with an inner vision: a sense of what I want to create.  I am not trained in the language of design, so have no idea whether the look I am after is contemporary, or shabby chic, or whatever.  Since we sold everything off last summer, we get to start fresh with the new house, and my imagination is working overtime – so many possibilities.

When Ric and I came together – after divorces and kids – we had an eclectic array of furnishings, which we tried to replace or update from time to time, but which still amounted to a mishmash.  He was reluctant to let go of pieces that reminded him of lost relatives, typically things that made no sense with any design plan.  I had managed to acquire a number of hand-me-downs from thoughtful friends, which also lacked coherency.

bc005f1fa250c02a63aa59bc61e3f23cNow, with a clear slate, I am envisioning a home that will be reminiscent of our travels, and convey a light, airy spirit.  Nothing formal – formal has never defined me – and definitely something that reflects my newfound love of colour.  Is watercolour retreat a style?

“Don’t shop at the Brick,” my daughter (the one with the interior decorating background) warns, when I tell her I want separate pieces that meld well – and its of colour.

shopping“This isn’t going to be a traditional home,” I tell Ric.  He is looking up beds and dressers, all matching.  I’ve already picked out a pair of blue side tables I want for the bedroom.

Sea-foam blast is the colour of the couch I’ve selected.  “And there will be orange,” I inform him.

His eyebrows raise, but he is willing to concede ownership of the decorating to me.  “I’ll take charge of the appliances, if that’s okay,” he suggests.

Fine by me.

“Do you care if the washer and dryer are different makes?” he asks looking up from his online research.

I think he’s catching on.

(All images and products available from wayfair.ca)

 

 

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Writer, avid reader, former educator, and proud grandmother, currently experiencing life through the lens of ME/CFS. Words are, and always have been, a lifeline. Some of the best adventures, I'm discovering, take place in the imagination.

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