...of their own. I've been bitten by the spring cleaning bug. Well, the spring reorganising and decorating bug, at least. The cleaning can get knotted.
I suspect this critter hibernates over winter then emerges when he sees sunshine peeking through the cracks in his cocoon. I imagine him to be a cheery little chap, all enthusiastic and full of ideas, because that's a bit how I'm feeling.
I've rejigged my drawing room, now I'm pondering the prospects for the kids rooms. While doing this I started to feel a bit defeated by all those ugly bits of plastic and scavenged bits they love so much. Before they were both born, their rooms were picture perfect little postcards of what I imagined they'd grow to be. Pastel green canvases painted with special things I had made, or salvaged from my, or my husband's childhood. All arranged lovingly, in anticipation.
Then they each arrived. With my son came Fisher Price gifts and numerous stuffed things. With every birthday and Christmas since, the collection has grown to include, diggers, dumpers and tools. Big ones. Now he's developed some dexterity we also have craft projects too precious to recycle and drawings upon drawings upon drawings.
With my daughter it was an influx of pink that interfered with the picture perfect postcard. In her two years of life she's become a mother to no less than five babies, and anyone who has had a baby will realize how much stuff they come with!
It all conflicts a bit with my need to surround myself with loveliness. Things of beauty. Things of quirky. Order.
But then, it's not about me, is it?
I want both my cherubs to have spaces that enthuse them. Spaces in which they can feel cheery, chill out, or whatever.
This brings me back to those interior decorating folk I ranted about a while back. Any perfectly ordered, Thomas the Tank Engine free, clutterless kids room I see in a magazine or on telly makes me feel a bit off colour. Do kids live in them?? Poor things.
Don't get me wrong, I do have the overwhelming urge to stuff a large bag full of all their stuff, which I find horrid. Often. But I can't bring myself to do it. It would be cruel and I wouldn't cope with the backlash.
Instead of me trying to own their spaces, I've been standing in each of their rooms trying to think the way they do. Reverting back to junior me.
So currently, I'm working on a secret corner for my daughter. I've employed muscle to swivel the wardrobe so it's at a right angle with the wall. Next, I'm going to enclose it with a panel of house themed fabric, with a door and window cut into it. Then I'll paint the back of the wardrobe as though it's a wall within the house. Maybe with another window and a painting hanging on it. Inside I've already put her bookcase, play kitchen and dolls pram.
She keeps disappearing into her corner so I must be on the right track.
Any ideas for my sons room? His is next.
In buntyandsars land I've been drawing like a lady possessed. I'm keen to do some properly developed illustrations to be sold as prints and I'm getting fully immersed in the challenge of working on a larger scale and with some different mediums. It's difficult after having worked in miniature for so long. I'm also reading a biography of Ron Brooks, the guy who illustrated John Brown, Rose and the Midnight Cat. The reading is supposed to wind me down before I nod off to sleep. But this book just makes me want to get up and draw. Oh, how I'd love to illustrate a children's book. My husband told me I was just as likely to get the opportunity to join the circus. Being a busy mum, it feels a bit that way too. But really, what a rotter.
In spite of him I shall draw my little heart out and maybe one day....
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