how to add one square foot to a little house.

dear toilet paper holder thing,

you have, for quite some time now been a bee in my bathroom efficiency bonnet. at only a scant 6x10 or so feet, with two doors, each leading to a wee bedroom, i have been challenged by your space wasting ways.

forget for a moment that you share the room with a claw foot tub. but in a bathroom of this size with zero storage (i'll post about that later) i don't think that putting a roll of toilet paper on an exalted pedestal of brassy goodness does not do much except be a space hog. and in a little house, you'd better have a much grander purpose than offering up a wipe to a dumper.

do i make myself clear?

well, after much thought and consideration...it came to me. it in the form of a brass hook that is originally intended for hanging garments.

i fancied using it in my closet, but feared it would just get overloaded by so many cast off clothes of the day. i love its curvy line and length: 10 inches of committed organization.

i also had the desire to see this lovely organizational tool. i  always appreciate good aesthetics in all things and the humble job of toilet paper offerings is no different.

so, after considering a couple of options (in the bathroom fittings department, which only yielded more disappointing space hog results) i remembered that i'd purchased this charmer of a hook at an antique store here in napa.

since i rent my big little house, i also cleverly installed it by mounting it with screws into the grooves of the wood trim, thereby avoiding the future problems of move-fix-lose deposit.

so you see there, toilet paper holder thingy? i just added one square foot of floor space to my house.
i will put nothing in your place on the floor.  i can do that. i am a grown up. take that!

instead, i will appreciate the 12 square inches of  zen like openness to my bathroom that i choose not to fill.
i will celebrate my cleverness of hanging the essential cleaning master from the simply designed hook.

and when i sit and ponder and reach for the essentials whilst spending my time there, uh, on the perch,
i will think of you, stored in the basement. with your personal can of brasso.

xo,
K

A letter to you

dear chesterfield sofa,

it's long over due that i write this letter to you. as late you've been on my mind and this is my only outlet by which we can communicate.

i first saw you a year or so ago and i must say i was smitten at first sight. i stalked you off and on when i'd deliver paintings and whilst attending an event, even sat on your very self.  you already know, i am sure, how comfortable you are.

then suddenly, you were gone. i looked everywhere, quietly as any good couch stalker would do, but alas you were nowhere to be found. i had to inquire, and found that you'd been put away in storage. humiliating for you, i am sure, but it made me happy, knowing that you were no longer available for others..
you see, we are meant for each other.

but then i saw your listing on first dibs. knowing that others would see your appeal and be attracted to your vibe, i knew that it was time to reach out to you. through the universe as it were.

we're both from the 60's, so we've both got patina. your's is described as "great", i'd say mine is closer to "all that sun exposure in the eighties is showing a bit". i've looked you over and contrary to what your online description says, your condition is a little closer to "a bit time worn" rather than "very good" as described.

 i lived through the 80's as well.  stuff happened, we all got carried away.  that's all i'm going to say.

no offense intended, but if we're to have the relationship that i know we will (in which you move in with me: i hope i am not being too forward?) you must know that i accept you as you are, you slightly funky, bohemian glam hunk of leather and studs, you.

you'll be happy at my house, with me. I promise. spending the day surrounded by other retro-y furnishings will make you happy. you'll feel young again. really. is this why i am attracted to furnishings of the sixties?

i digress.

so chester, if i might be so bold, come live with me in my big little house. 

we will be so happy.

together.

love,

K