From The House
I don’t think a home is ever really finished.
And perhaps it shouldn’t be.
I have lived with empty corners for a long time simply because I had not yet found the right object for them. I don’t mind the waiting. I would rather leave a space empty than fill it simply because it looks unfinished.
I like the search.
I like not knowing exactly what I am going to find.
And I like being surprised.
There is a particular feeling when you see an object and something in you responds to it immediately. You weren’t looking for it. You may not even know where it will go. But somehow, you know you want to live with it.
I have brought home objects like that many times. Eventually they find their place — and sometimes that place changes.
I rearrange things as my home changes and as I change. A vase moves from one room to another. A bowl that once sat on a shelf finds its way to the table.
Perhaps that is because a home is not a fixed composition.
It grows with us.
There are also objects in my home that may not make sense together from a decorating point of view. They come from different countries, decades and styles.
But they make sense to me.
And I think that matters more.
Today, Instagram and Pinterest can make it seem as though a home should have a particular aesthetic, with every object belonging to the same visual language.
But a perfectly coordinated room may tell us something about a decorating style.
Does it tell us anything about the person who lives there?
For me, collecting slowly is not passive.
It is actually very intentional.
There is intention in the search, but freedom in the discovery.
I seek out antique shops, markets, second-hand stores and small places discovered while travelling. I go looking, but rarely for anything in particular.
Sometimes it is the craftsmanship that draws me in. Sometimes the shape, colour, texture or evidence of age.
And sometimes it is simply a feeling.
That, to me, is collecting slowly.
Being patient enough not to buy simply because there is a space to fill, but curious enough to keep looking until something speaks to you.
Perhaps there will always be an empty corner somewhere.
A shelf with room for one more story.
A space waiting for an object I haven’t discovered yet.
And I think I like it that way.
A home should have room to keep becoming.
The objects we choose today become the memories we keep tomorrow.
From The House,
Maison Corridor- Collected with intention. Meant to be kept.