im going to build a house. my house. my dream house. its going to be surrounded by woodland. its going to have reclaimed oak parquet flooring. its going to have a view of water, preferably in sweden. itll be big enough to swing a cat, but not so large that it loses character. it wont have round windows. it will have a beautiful big wooden door, flat and modern, in a warm amber gold timber, and a long steel handle to open it. itll always smell like baked bread and cakes because itll have the most wonderful kitchen - simple and functional, bordering on modernist, but allowed to be lived in and used and loved. between the kitchen and the living space will be a wooden table. the centre of my world. sturdy and made of oak, no frills and no fuss. benches instead of chairs. big enough to fit 8 people round with elbow room to spare. a table so happy that it wont care what you do to it. itll live aslong as i do and will see cake making, pattern cutting, laptop working, crayon drawing, seedling planting, cardboard robot building and much much more. but itll always have a bowl of fruit, a delicate glass jug of water and a board with homemade bread ready for all to snack on and come weekends it will fill with dishes of hearty good food and plain white crockery. nothing for show, everything to be used and enjoyed. there will be an eames lounger in one end of the living space, placed where the afternoon sun falls and with the best view of the sunset behind the trees. itll always have a warm grey cashmere blanket on it and a stack of well thumbed books to choose from in those nighttime moments of peace and quiet. therell be a peaceful bedroom. with grass green fine curtains that stretch seamlessly from floor to ceiling covering every inch of window - the walls being mostly glass - like in that helmut newton photo. itll be nestled in the trees on one side of the building, so that when the curtains are open, its like you are sleeping in the dark forest with all the creatures that live there. itll have a big, but very low bed. big enough to fit two grown adults and two small children comfortably on a lazy sunday morning and apart from a nice comfortable armchair, thisll be it. itll be my ultimate extravagance. a bedroom which is just a bedroom. no clutter, no stuff, just space and carpet, but itll have a balcony. a wooden terrace with elegant wooden sunloungers and plentiful green plants in big earthenware pots. acid green leaves of bamboo hugging the exterior. like my own little nest. ill have a darkroom. my own studio. small and compact, bijous even, but functional. one wall just a giant bookcase, covered with all the books ive collected over the years. enough space that i wont ever have to get rid of a book again. above all it will be honest. it will not be a gallery or exhibit. it will not shout at you but rather put its solid arms around you and gently whisper in your ear that you are home.
beautiful, beautiful.
some things i think you may like to do with building your own nest:
http://nyttrom.no/index.php?s=Noen-ganger
http://camillaengman.blogspot.com/
http://www.theselby.com/
http://remodelista.com/
make yourself a cup of tea, in a proper cup, with a proper saucer, and peruse at your leisure...
ps: my next two baking missions are red velvet cake and proper gingerbread. thlllllp.
x
Posted by: clare | February 09, 2009 at 10:44 AM
aw fanks love. i shall read those. as you can probably tell, im getting that pulling yearning feeling...
Posted by: monkey dave | February 11, 2009 at 12:14 AM