We stayed in an old cottage that had been charmingly decorated. There was an abundance of overflowing bookcases, reading nooks and antique furniture. The paneled walls were covered in an eclectic collection of art from a rather erotic Brett Whiteley drawing in the bedroom to a Norman Lindsay etching. It was a house for spending long hours reading in the verandah-dimmed light or tinkering on the (slightly out of tune) piano.
That house made me realize how empty of interest our house actually was. It's amazing how used to a house you become. When we first moved I had intentions but then I quickly got used to the emptiness of the house and stopped seeing it.
So I returned to Brisbane with a resolution to make my house into a retreat full of beautiful objects.
I like your style of writing here T. I think this idea that your having will be wonderful to see unfold.
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