8.12.02 – from bohemian artist to residence motel in just one day: a packrat’s guide to redecorating

i have a new roommate. it’s been nice, zeke getting his own bathroom and bedroom for the whole summer, but not totally unreasonable that the theatre would want to move another actor in here with me for the remaining few weeks that i’m here. i warned the company manager that i was going to take all the common area furniture and kitchen utensils with me, and she assured me that she’d contracted with a company to equip the apartment with furniture, etc, for the guy moving in (kevin).

furniture guys arrived at seven this morning with two sofas, end tables, dining room table and chairs, cooking tools, coffee maker, broom, vacuum, bed and dresser, shower curtain, you name it. 30 minutes and they were gone, leaving a fully furnished apartment behind them. i hauled most of my stuff out of the kitchen/living room last night, and this morning i got up, looked around, and my lovely bohemian pad had turned into a residence motel.

the chinese lantern looks awkward hanging directly over the table lamp, and the japanese wall hangings are out of place next to the bland-colored geometric-pattern sofa and love seat. i suddenly feel better about the chipped blue china dishes i got after my grandmother died, this mismatched towels, a bean bag chair from my college days hanging beneath a pink chinese lantern, an armchair that’s more holes than upholstery, filched from my parents’ garage. the toy collection (Nunzilla the wind-up nun who spits sparks, my freud doll, my power puff girl that says “i think they’re asking for a hiney-whoopin!”, the yoda doll that came to my S.A.T.s with me, my beanie babie chameleon…)

i guess i’m not ready for grown up furniture, even if it is nicer than my stuff. my furnishings have character. they have stories. the armchair (zeke’s favorite) was the first piece of furniture that my grandparents bought after they were married. the 13″ tv tucked into the fireplace i won in a bet with my younger brother. the toy collection that sat on the trunk-draped-with-tie-dye-tapestry-coffee-table look out of place on the new oak end table.

i wish i’d thought to take before and after photos.

it makes me realize that i’m more stuff-oriented than i try to be. not that i need expensive, or impressive stuff. but i cling to the stuff that is imbued with emotional content. i used to always flinch at how much stuff i had whenever i’d pack up and move – flinch because some part of me was saying “ha! see how materialistic you really are? you need all this STUFF!” but now i realize that it’s insecurity. it’s hard for me to carry everyone and everything i love inside my heart, without physical reminders of them. i like the idea of being totally free of these emotional bonds to physical items, but it seems like a less lofty goal to me now. this stuff represents the people i love, and since i can’t cram them all into my life at the same time, i cram their stuff into the same room.