Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The family room is in the living room, the master bath is in the closet, the basement rooms are heaped into themselves, boxed and condensed. Closets lie in silent linen white, emptied of the accumulation of years. The kitchen is yet negotiable, stalagmites of cookbooks rising from the counters. The cats creep these sudden new alley-ways between paintings leaned against a wall. Fumes pervade everything. An architecture of ladders on the porch. Change is afoot and each newly brightened wall glows with its own light, delight, a calm uplifting of winter spirits cast out with the waning month of March.