Somewhere Beyond The Sea…

Seascape over the couch - Field Notes From My Couch

You may remember when I hung these tea towels over my couch, and I was real excited about it. I was going to get them a frame and everything, which is big commitment in my book. Then I stenciled the wall, and I sure as hell wasn’t hanging those tea towels (or ANYTHING) up over that couch unless I was certain it was right, because stenciling is the worst. Nine months later and I’m still not sure I’ll ever stencil anything again, except I totally will because that stencil was expensive and I want to get my use out of it.

Anyway, the months went by and I kind of forgot that my plan was to eventually put something over the couch. I face the tv when I’m sitting on the couch, not the sad bare wall, duh. Sometime in February  went through a phase where I was obsessed with ocean imagery, like this.   So I asked my mom to make me a painting of the ocean. I had something really modern, and active in mind, not just like a regular seascape.

Momtha is, of course, amazing, so she painted me this awesome, awesome painting that just pulls the whole room together. I love how when I look at it, I feel like I’m floating in the ocean on a stormy day, and I love that it isn’t your typical landscape. It’s really big – for some reason I am only drawn to big, in your face art. It’s dark, and ties in all the dark elements in an overall very light room. To use an ocean metaphor, it’s the anchor for the room, sailor, and I’m very happy with it.

I think I’m pretty much done with the family(? tv?) room for the time being. I’m still dreaming about a new couch. However, I’m almost definitely not getting a new couch unless I move, because while I would love a leather chesterfield of my very own, (and of course I could totally afford to impulse buy one of those, don’t worry everyone, I’m super rich) I’m also kind of digging that, if we decided to pack up and travel the world, I could get rid of half my stuff and not even miss it.

I’ll be back with an update on tree boy the fig fiddle once he gets back from plant rehab at Momtha’s. He grew like four new leaves, which a) doesn’t begin to replace all the ones he lost, so uh, hurry up guy, and b) hurts my feelings. Does this mean I’m an unfit parent?