Not what you might think from the title. This seems like an assignment in self study. This particular post is about a room. This room, the room I am sitting in at this very moment. It was suggest that for January 13, I look at this room as if I am seeing it for the very first time.
From the room comes the psychedelic sounds of the classic album; ‘Wish You Were Here’ by Pink Floyd.
A set of french doors open and two steps down onto the carpeted floor bring me into a room with into a room approximately 15’x15′ with multi coloured walls of gold and burgundy. Four wall scones in each corner light the room with that fake fluorescent lighting given off by energy saving bulbs, too cool a light, I think to myself, too cool a light. There are two average windows facing south, one large picture window facing east and a large sliding glass door leading to the deck outside.
Standing just inside the doors, I see directly in front of me, next to the picture window, a paint coloured table with a large monitor, an Intuos tablet, a computer and the keyboard. On top of that computer are headphones, a video camera, and oddly out of place sits a harmonica. To the right of the table is an old leather lounge chair with it’s matching ottoman. A tear in the arm and nicks and scratches on the lacquered surfaces of the feet say, “I am a comfy and well used chair, do come and rest your weary bones, sit back and listen to the music while your mind wanders.” Next to the chair is a small round table with a laptop, an ashtray that needs emptying and an open pack of Lucky Strikes.
On the floor, propped up against the walls are canvasses and birch panels of all sizes. Finished and unfinished works of art gathering dust. Amongst the collection of art works also leaning against the wall is an easel. An easel, judging by the coating of dust on it, that seems not to have been used in some time. Next to that easel sits a tripod and a photographic studio light barn doors closed, waiting patiently to light the next model.
As I walk into the room I have to step over the sleeping Black Lab who goes by the name Santana. He stretches and opens red rimmed eyes to watch me warily. He doesn’t seem to take kindly to being disturbed from his stick chasing dreams. Quite frankly, \i don’t believe he likes being disturbed at all, dreams or not.
Turning more to the right and looking back I see a closed tall white cabinet. Atop the cabinet is a clear plastic bin containing paints and on top of that is a plastic palette and sitting atop that are two straw cowboy type hats, you know, the type that are worn by old hippies, sides curled up and the front bent way down to cover the eyes. As I turn to complete the 180 degrees, I see another tripod and another easel propped in the corner more plastic bins containing art supplies stuck in wire shelves. The bottom shelf contains books and magazines. The books range from ‘The Grateful Dead Family Album’ to ‘The Rolling Stones in Photos’ to ‘Blues Harmonica For Beginners’ to ‘Techniques For Pencil Sketching’ and then ‘Digital Camera’ magazine. On that floor are two unused canvasses awaiting the next masterpiece.
Continuing the 360 survey of the room shows me several small shelves containing knick knacks; a bottle filled with beads, a clay tile of Jerry Garcia, a small canvas of what can only be the owner of the space and his lovely muse and several candles. Just below that, on the floor, is what appears to be a basket filled with chew toys, a bucket of water and a dog dish.
With one final pirouette I turn and see, in the corner on the left side of the table is a file cabinet with a beat up old satchel type briefcase and several more canvasses tucked between the cabinet and the wall.
This rooms occupant can only be described as someone with a flair for the creative, both contemporary and traditional. Someone with eclectic tastes but definitely leaning toward the more down to earth hippyish psychedelic style. A man that may, it seems has many projects on the go at one time. One of those types that starts many and finishes few.
I can’t help but be drawn to that chair, I sit, put my feet up and lean back slightly just as the first notes of the classic song ‘Wish You Were Here’ lull me into a comfortable mindset.