The Silent Spaces



Cousin Cindy's Guest Room



After a long day of travel I found myself standing in my cousin's guest room openly gaping.  The bedspread and pillows matched the curtains which matched the handmade lampshades, which coordinated with the picture frames, the nightstand and the meticulously arranged bookshelf display.  There was not one item of clutter on any surface.  There was no dust.  I had never seen anything like it before.

It is obvious from which side of the family Cousin Cindy received her gift of decorating and cleanliness - the part to which I'm not related.  Her mother, affectionately known as "Clean Jean," has one of the most beautiful houses you will ever see - and, needless to say, it is also the cleanest.  Unfortunately, Aunt Jean married into the family gene pool.

Organized toothpicks! 
No I do not have an obsession.  Ha ha!

Even though I knew people like Cousin Cindy and Aunt Jean existed, I had honestly never seen them up close and the experience was somewhat exhilarating.  It was similar to the first moment you spend in a hotel in a foreign country.  You admire odd things like the shape of the toilet and stand at bizarre angles to get a better look of the view out your window - oblivious to the image you must be creating for passersby glancing back in your window.  So it was I must have genuinely befuddled my relatives when they caught me snapping pictures of their toothbrushes (gosh, they were cutely arranged!) and tissue boxes (she had the neatest little bamboo box for them to hide inside.)  But honestly, I was still perfectly sane.  

The thing that most impressed me though was how inviting the cleanliness was.  The books begged to be read, the light switch to be flipped, the bed to be sat upon.  I'd been in other "clean homes" all of whom felt sterile and drove me from them screaming.  But this house wasn't that way at all.  Or the polar opposite, you have my house which is brimming with mementos and knicknacks. What was the difference between this house and mine?

After we left Cousin Cindy's home we traveled to Texas to visit more family and to participate in a Pedagogy Conference for my college credit.  But while we traveled I continued to pour over the pictures of the toothbrushes and tissue box (among others) and remember the beckoning welcome of her home.

Cindy's daughter Amanda's room



The day after we returned home, some weeks later, I stood in front of my dresser.  I saw two alarm clocks, 6 picture frames, a hat pin holder, books, a sizable jewelry box, a large lamp, some knickknacks and miscellaneous small clutter.  I closed my eyes and remembered Cousin Cindy's dresser and I knew what was the difference.

Silent Spaces:

A place on which there is nothing.

Cousin Cindy pocketed her beautiful things in spaces of emptiness.  A good decorator knows that the eye must have places to rest, just like God created valleys as well as mountains.  It is those empty spaces that make us feel relaxed and rested.  If your desk is covered with items, even though you may love every single one, you will begin to feel subconciously overwhelmed by them.   

To apply this new idea I stacked a few matching books, sat one picture frame and the hatpin holder on top.  Chose one more favorite picture and ditched the rest.  Changed the jewelry in the box over to a different location.  Clustered the alarm clocks together (believe it or not I really do need two.  lol.)  And took a step back. 

"Hmm, just like Cousin Cindy's."