With an artist, it never ends. We don't put on our jackets, shut the lights to a room, and shed the remains of the day like clothing. Ideas, images, text, narrative, stories, sights, sounds, smells—they fill our heads as we move through the world and stay with us. We are always looking, always aware, always seeking. And I love that, but it can be hard to explain.
We compartmentalize so much during the day—constantly screening out the distractions that surround us to get our work done. Leaving a constricting environment is like letting my hair down, shaking it out, putting my feet up, and finally sighing in the comfort of my home, to release the pent-up breath I'd been holding in all day. Now I can just be me. We see design in everything, natural or handmade, so it follows suit that this would mark our homes, too.
As in nature and life, change is constant. The seasons change, the lighting changes, the earth moves, and so do we. Nothing remains constant, static, stuck in place, dead. It evolves and adapts as we do. Our jobs blur the lines between disciplines into a harmonious whole. We do clerical, administrative, marketing, accounting, even change coffee filters, any facet of business you can think of, in addition to creating product on the clock. As"artist" is a general term and "designer" is specific, both accomodate as constraints dictate, on demand.
And so I change my home with the seasons, as inspiration drives me, or as I see fit. It's an energy, that creative spark, and when it moves you, you just go with it. Sometimes it pans out and sometimes it doesn't, but the great thing that comes with age is that we master our impulses, gaining timing and foresight with the knowledge we constantly absorb. Unlike other disciplines, like music, acting, or dance, there are no artistic prodigies, because it's manual dexterity applied with accrued learning is beyond the scope of youthful immaturity.
I surf a myriad of design sites every day, including decor and interior design. As I was taking down and putting away the Christmas decorations, I thought about how much I love the way the lights look in this season. Why put away something so cheerful looking? But, how to incorporate Christmas lights without harkening to a dorm room? I'd been into solar-powered light jars for sometime, though they seemed really expensive. And I know I've seen lights in jars and vases, so why not? It took me back to childhood, to that magical time between daylight and sunset, dusk in summertime, when the fireflies come out twinkling and the crickets start chirping, as we ran about the yard collecting them in jars. Who wouldn't want to be reminded of that? Especially when there's more dark than light during the Winter Solstice.
After packing away the Christmas decor, I realized I'd left some green beads strung around a large picture frame, to give it some holiday color. Oops. No way I was gonna unpack that large container for some beads. Hmm. Then I remembered my cousin in New Orleans, readying for Mardi Gras. Aha! At first I had the beads as curtain ties in my bedroom. I liked the way they sounded as I drew the fabric behind the holds, but it was unwieldy to do so. Where could they go, as a reminder? I scanned the apartment, looking for places. They now happily adorn a living room shade, which is ornate in the style of a French Quarter salon. Perfect. I love the association—it suits the Doucette in me well.
Please feel free to borrow and idea or two. Heck, go ahead and steal them, because I sure did. Apologies to the design sites with the gorgeous lighting ideas that stuck in my head. I'd reference you, if I could separate you out from among the jumble. Anyway they are filed away in my brain forever, so thanks for making such a big impact on me. Here's some favorites that I scan throughout the day:
À bientot!
