I posted a photo to Instagram the other day of my lounge room floor strewn with dozens of magazine pages, several display folders full to bursting and sketch books with little cut and pasted bits and pieces.
Hello my name is Emma and I’m an inspiration hoarder.
With the birth of Pinterest I was addicted, I fell hard down the rabbit hole, especially when we were planning our wedding – so handy! Since the heady days of early pinning addiction I’ve culled a lot of my boards, curated and fine tuned them. “Will I really come back to that?” “Am I really going to make/cook/crochet/diy that?” My Pinterest boards are a happy place to visit and scroll through – they are especially edited to reflect what I like, nobody else. That’s what I like about Pinterest, the control you have over this bizarre perfect little world you create. You know that world where you eat all this amazing food, do all those projects you want to around your home, sew, crochet and knit all these cute things. And of course you’re wearing a fabulously pulled together outfit and really cute shoes. Ah, Pinterest, such a love/hate relationship with your weird rabbit hole unrealistic self.
I digress. Even with Pinterest, still I have subscriptions to magazines, although this year only two: Country Style and Home Beautiful (both Christmas gifts from husband dearest). And still every month I rip out, cut and paste, file away images of beautiful homes, stories of families and recipes I’d like to try. There is something to be said for having an actual inspiration folder to flick through, something to touch and read. I like to file away whole articles too – some about rural women I find inspiring, some whole article layouts the design nerd inside me loves the look of.
As I sat on my lounge room floor surrounded by all the prettiness that I had collected over literally years and years of magazine reading, a definite style poked its head out at me. All those lecturers at uni were right after all – visual journaling reveals a lot. I have lots of kitchen images for ‘the forever home’, I also have lots of articles about farming families, the perfect ideal portrayed in all the glossy glory of a magazine spread. What surprised me though was that a lot, like a lot, of my images I’d collected were of wide hallways in old farmhouses, the walls lined with frames, an antique hallstand or a beautiful stain glassed feature door at the end. Huh. Funny thing is, now in our farmhouse we have that hallway. It’s in the centre of the house, and with veranda’s on all sides you can imagine the cave-like qualities. So it seems I have the perfect opportunity to perhaps create one of those dream inspiration images from my magazine tear outs, cavelike qualities and all.
The hall runs almost the full length of the house, from back door to front. At the moment it’s definitely a work in progress, but just the sheer width of the space and high ceilings makes it seem fabulous even if it’s undecorated. My great-grandparents oak hallstand holds our akubras, as well as Matt’s grandfathers, a stockwhip or two and blankets in the seat. Our little hall table by the back door we bought a few years ago at a country market and is made out of 100 year old floorboards salvaged from a local house. The wooden cabinet at the other end of the hall was our wedding gift from Matt’s parents – a beautiful piece which hung on their family home’s laundry wall holding all sorts of medicines for little Matthew’s scraped knees and coughs. I’d always admired it and was sad to hear it would be included when the family home was sold just before we were married. The day after our wedding Matt’s parents unveiled it as a wedding gift to us to have in our own family home one day. We’re not sure what to do with it yet in this house, like the hallway it’s a bit of a work in progress.
Have a happy weekend, I have a feeling it will be the last hurruh for my favourite season of Autumn until next year. We’re possibly going car shopping, possibly going to the Penola Coonawarra Arts Festival farmers market, possibly mowing the lawns, possibly none of the above. We’ll see.