Screen Shot: Block bugs and look beautiful

I adore this option with the stained and varnished mahogany.

There’s nothing like an aluminum screen door to get you sliding back to the seventies, fingers clasping and unclasping in quick succession as you ask yourself, which is worse? The start to this decade or the seventies. We’ve barely gotten across the threshold, but it has left so very much to be desired. Having lived through the full compliment of that orange and brown, shag carpet, lava lamp, bell bottomed blue, banana seat bike, built-in belt, goucho wearing decade – I can assure you it was anything but complimentary.

Dory – You adore this as much as I do?

As much as I hated those aluminum screen doors with their diamond patterned, pressed inlay, they undoubtedly did their primary job, which was to keep the bugs out, and very importantly to me, let the light in. I ripped a similarly offensive “storm door” off of my current condo, and its facade is far better for it. It’s the equivalent of having lost 20lbs. Who wouldn’t look lighter and feel more attractive? It had to go, but I’ve missed it – obviously not for it’s aesthetic contributions, but for it’s bug catching abilities.

Fire cracker red celebrates the seasons.

As I took my walk to investigate the open houses, analyze with a critical eye and the dormers on the homes in the Port, I took to noticing how many homes hadn’t forgone the screen door. They put it front and center, they made it an object of desire, the painted in bright colors and in the highest gloss available, also known as lacquer and they adorned it with gold leaf appliques. These wooden screen doors were a triumph. They were a spectacle, they were worth a nod, they were worth further investigation, and dare I say replication.

While some of you might think that it is “strictly coastal”, I think I could have made it work in the city. If only I had more time. If only I had more money. If only, if only, if only….

The Edge of Summer: Where you stand is what you are

I love the idea of being decoded. I’ve certainly made no secret of that fact, and the how’s, and why’s of the things I do. They are often a mystery to me. Surprisingly, they seem a little less mysterious to others, who can see things, that I simply cannot. Michael Singer writes in his book: The Untethered Soul about our indwelling consciousness. The perfection of this idea that we live in our heads instead of the world, and further that we’ve shacked up with a very afraid, extremely talkative roommate who makes no bones about telling you where your edge is, is illuminating to say the least. Should I have just gotten to the point and stated the obvious, which is that we are in fact, on the edge of summer, the back edge, not the front.

Serena and Lily . quintessentially summer.
S + L Terrace Dining Table $3898.
S and L . Sundial Outdoor Side Chair $1398.

Palecek Design . Sadie Beaded Mirror looks like a sea anemone. $1678.

Instead of living in our heads, while it is out there still happening, I plan to spend this weekend dwelling in the real world where happiness and sunshine abound, if only you are willing to look for it. The passing of summer, after all, need not be lamented. We live in this beautiful existence of circular renewal – it’ll be back again, and we’ll be waiting for it. What was it that the very prosaic Winnie the Pooh said:

Palcek Design does it with: Left – Marina Chandelier available at Stephanie Cohen Home $1557.60 and Right: Green Oaks Wall Pendant at Clayton Gray Home $780.

“What I like best, –” and then he had to stop and think. Because although eating honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it, which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called. Ah, anticipation – hang on to that, but not before you revel in all these beautiful summer furnishings, which with the lead times being what they are, you should snap up now so that when next summer rolls around you are as ready to live in the real world in divine style – untethered from longing and lamentation. What a wonderful thing. Happy weekend.

Add a little Scalamadrie . Jarin de Chine Wallpaper to a foyer.

Living Room: the grown up version of your den

Option 1

I wonder if the empty room feels exposed, naked, vulnerable, or perhaps she is an exhibitionist, that revels in her sparse beauty.  Begging to have the observer, look at her, admire her, sit with her.  There is something wonderfully rich about the blank slate.  My imaginings made manifest with the sweeping away of all obstacles.  Admittedly some of those obstacles come in the form of walls and doors, diminutive moldings, or grotesque protuberances – the gaudy mantle or casing – lob it off, somewhat less delicately than the plastic surgeon, shaping and sculpting the next, in a long line of Bougie Barbies.  My goal is not perfection – perfection is decidedly boring.  I’d rather be interesting, the cocktail party guest that amuses and entertains, and that above all else, makes you feel special. 

Option 2

Rooms can do that too.  They draw you into a conversation, even when you didn’t much feel like talking.  It can start slowly with that interesting object displayed on the coffee table.  What is it?  A gourd handled, porcelain brush?  It looks Asian, maybe Japanese.  Where did it come from, what is it used for? Now you’re getting into the swing of it.  You see, you can’t stay silent when there are so many interesting things to discover.

Option 3. what will be will be…..

Today though, we need to start with the basics. This room has sat empty for far too long. Sure it might have been home to a dust bunny or a plastic bunny on wheels, left unattended by the two year old ready for a nap or a snack or some other distraction. It’s time to give its due.

Should I Stay or Should I Go Now: Selling a home during a pandemic

Is the residential market on the decline?

Clearly I am seeking.  I have made no secret of it.  This Quest of mine has been neatly packaged and bound, flip after flip anchoring the pages of my story to the tacky binding of my unfinished book.  Whether you are rooting for me or against me, indifferent, apathetic, or uninclined, you’re seeking too.  We’re seekers.  That urgency, the burning need to leave a mark, the charcoaled edged of the embered wood lending credence to our existence.  Of our 7 core instincts; anger, fear, panic-grief, maternal care, pleasure/lust, play, and here it is: seeking, it is thought that the last of these instincts should in fact be the first.  It is considered the most powerful of them all.  Isn’t that delightful, delectable, darned amazing?  We want answers, we want higher ground, clarity, clairvoyance or something close to it.  Something that makes our us-ness special.  Chevy Chase used to open his Saturday Night Live performances with:  I’m Chevy Chase, and YOU are not….  I think that sums it up nicely.  We are looking for validation, in the way only we can.  The way that matters to us most, though admittedly, that too can be foggy at times.  Doubt creeps in and rears her gorgon, snake filled main of hair, her monstrous wings propelling her through the air, swinging dangerously close to you, and all your uncertainty.  Don’t let her mystical beauty lull you into a false sense of security.  Medusa is not your friend, stand your ground, fling barbed questions to pierce and silence the snakes.  I think it helps in finding the answers for you, and your personal pilgrimage.

Here I am on the threshold of yet another milestone, technically it is time for me to sell my little one bed, tucked away off the busy city street, behind a gated entry, that opens to a tree filled courtyard, and a front door – your own front door.  Who gets to live in the South End for under a million dollars, with their own front door?  Well, me, and perhaps you too if you are desirous of that sort of thing.  A home that lives like a town house, instead of a condo.  Your own private entry, your own mail box, your own wood burning fireplace for cozy fall evenings, and central air for hot late summer days.  It’s a magical jewel box of a property, but as the Budda says – everything is impermanent.  It is time for me to pass the pleasure onto another.  The question is, two years or not, should I be selling during a pandemic?

It’s never been my wish to have a hoard of people on the steps of my home, fists in the air like the floor of the stock exchange at the final bell, begging to buy my property.  No, I am more interested in that one person, one couple, that falls madly in love with what I have created, and knows instantly that they have found their mate in this home.  I guess the answer that I am looking for from you is yes, it’s possible to find someone like that, even in a pandemic.  Am I right or am I wrong.  Feel free to weigh in, everyone has an opinion.