Interior design is not a thing that I think I do well. My house is comfy, don’t get me wrong. I mean, there are chairs, a couch and beds and stools and stuff to trip over on the floor. Oh, there’s that jack I dropped when I thought I was 12 again! Yikers!
You felt it, too, didn’t you? I do not like lamps, however, and it shows in my home. Well, it would show in my home if there were lamps to light up the rooms. Lamps and I just never have seen eye to eye. To me, they are kind of like milk that might or might not be sour in the refrigerator. As long as it just sits there, it looks all right, but as soon as you need it, you realize there is just something about it that isn’t quite right.
Even though lamps are not my forte, I think I excel in one area of home décor. Wall stuff. Yes, the stuff hanging on the walls. A wall can say a ton of things about you. I don’t have expensive things on my walls. I don’t have expensive things at all.
I have fun things. Like I have a buoy from a lobster boat that I got in Maine.
Why? Because when I see it I can say “lobsta” and “butta” like a real Mainer. Is that important? Aye, capt’n, it is if you’ve ever eaten lobsta and butta under a full moon on a beach at a clam and lobsta bake in Boothbay Harbor, Maine. Yes, that’s the kind of stuff I have on my walls.
I like to look at the things people have on their walls, too. I don’t have family pictures prominently displayed on my walls. But! Yes, a picture-perfect “but.” Ha, ha. But I like to see family and friends in pictures in homes. They really add depth to a home. When there is a family picture on display, I smile at the faces all shined up and perfectly set. My family took one, yes, just one family picture.
Before any of us kids were married but old enough to be young adults and my parents were still kind of young. When I look at it us kids are all trying not to laugh at the fact that someone had — well, let one go just as the picture was about to be taken. Now that’s a family picture I treasure.
Art on the wall is nice, too. There is not one ounce of artistic talent on my palette of life. For me, art is the act of me trying to walk and chew gum at the same time. Art on the wall is, as they say, “very subjective.” La-de-dah. I love the few paintings I have from a grand friend. Then, there are the Trina pieces of “art.” Not to brag, but I have three cute round and happy fish made of wicker on the wall in the bathroom that have been there for nigh onto 30 years. I keep thinking I should paint the bathroom, but then I would have to take down the fish and that leads to the distinct possibility that they would not survive the swim downstream off the wall and then back upstream to be reattached, would leave scales with assorted fish parts all over the floor and that would be a stinking mess and shame. So, no, no, I have not painted in there — ever.
The last type of art is, of course, the wall plaques. Throughout the years I have, as I bet you have, acquired a plethora (I love that word!) of wonderful, insightful wall things.
Just when you think you have read everything there could ever be said that would make you laugh, cry, sigh or just walk away shaking your head, something new is put on glass or paper or rock or wood or metal. Now these I can get into. In the past, inspiration is what has kept my fingernails hanging onto the ledge more than once. You, too? That’s not a bad thing. Two terrific friends sent me the most substantial one in recent memory. It has an arrow chiseled in sandstone and it reads, “Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.” I agree.
Look toward the sun and the Son and you will always have light in your eyes.
Trina lives in Eureka, Nev. Find her on Facebook, Instagram and at firstname.lastname@example.org.