My house, in the middle of my street.

Lately, design magazines are filled with white walls, yet there is not a single one over here. Nearly 7 years ago I said that the sage walls in the bedroom would be gone within a month. Instead, we've lived with them due to the fact that we had so many other things to do first. Once we found the large oil painting at an estate sale across the street from us, the wall color has stayed the same. I really love that piece of art. There's a man in the top left corner who is hunched over with his hand on his head. It's intriguing. I'm thinking he's reflected in his own mirror after an especially trying day. Who placed that large white bouquet on the table in front of him? I've always wanted to know his story, and not just because it looks like he's possibly not wearing anything as he sits on a bench in his foyer maybe (which is odd). 


Of note, that Jonathan Franzen book on my side table is now finished, and I think I'll give it away. Anyone want to read it? If you're antagonistic* to light hearted, happy books and appreciate character development, this is your book. He certainly has a gift for storytelling, and since he's deliberately cultivated his own image writing the way he does, you've got to appreciate that he really doesn't care what we think. 


Personally, I'm only feeling opposition to the noncommittal forces of nature. Those who know me well would agree that I'm much too optimistic for much else.

antagonistic |anˌtagəˈnistik adjectiveshowing or feeling active opposition or hostility toward someone or something

In the meantime, wish me luck getting good photos that show more of what my house is like; not just dark corridors and a corner of my bedroom (whole rooms even).