I don’t understand how you can just have two or three pictures on your wall.
Picture. Gap. Gap. Picture. Gap. Clock. Gap. Gap. Gap. Picture.
How do you look at all that…space? How does your mind and imagination drift as you get sucked into the imagery, the fantasy of the art, the memories of the origins of the print – the holiday, the event, the people, the story. A blank space has no story. Where do you daydream?
But I know I am in the minority. And most will probably look at my cluttered (but orderly, I must stress how ordered they are) walls and wonder how I concentrate. How I don’t get a headache every time I sit down in my lounge.
My house is my life and my life is my soul and in my soul is what’s in my heart and in my heart is history and colour and art and places and people and stories and I live and breathe these things and so I want my home to be a reflection of my soul. After all, it’s where you spend the most time and if your home can’t be a manifestation of the essence of you, then where else in the world can be?
My wall space is getting limited, but by no means exhausted. People always proclaim “you need a bigger house!” But to that I say NEVER. There is always room. I love the mental arithmetic and puzzle of having to hang new additions to my gallery (that’s how I see it, a gallery). You swap and juggle. Something moves up. Another things moves over. You swap the bigger thing with a smaller thing from the other wall. You move a couple more things over to join it to create a little theme. And within ten minutes you have created a nook so perfect in size, and it’s surrounding items, so similar in style or theme, that you’d have sworn this patch of wall had been pre-determined and planned like this years in advance.
Much like our own heart and soul. You always think you can’t take on more or fit in something new, that you can’t cope with the change. But you adjust and shuffle and in no time at all, you wonder how you ever did without it being that way. That, maybe, it was meant to be like this all along.
There's always room.