Bedroom Secrets

So after walking back along the upstairs hallway from the Typewriter Room, this door on the left leads into the bedroom. The door has been re-hung (as have a few others in the house) to open inwards, but the other way round i.e. opening left to right (with the handle on the left), instead of right to left (with the handle on the right). I believe the doors were hung right to left orginally, so that there would be a few seconds from when you opened the door, before you set eyes upon who was inside the room. This was to protect one's (Victorian) modesty, and allowed the person within the room a moment to adjust themselves/make themselves presentable for their visitor. Where as if you open the door left to right, you see inside the room immediately.
I just found it quite a cumbersome way to enter a room, and the arc of the door opening took up unnecessary space within the room so decided to re-hang the door, so that it would open against a wall, rather than into the room.

This door as you can see, needs to be stripped down and re-painted. Like a few other doors in this house, it had pieces of hardboard tacked on both sides completely covering the original panelled door underneath. What a find!

Musical chairs (and sofas).

The final room downstairs (apart from a small cloakroom) is what we refer to simply as the front room (or according to your recent list, the sitting room, living room or lounge). This space has good proportions, which makes it flexible and easy to reposition the furniture, which I do quite often. During the process of this tour the room has actually undergone a quick makeover. The photos show three different views of the room – each with a before and after photograph. 

The stripped floorboards and gas fire were inherited from the previous occupants, and the only thing we changed in here was to remove some fitted cupboards to the left of the chimney breast – this was so we could accommodate the plan chest (although in the latest re-organisation this has moved). I have owned the plan chest for about 25 years, I love it, and it’s very practical, but accommodating it can be quite challenging.

I miss the fact that I don’t have a mantle piece, so instead the hearth has become a display space. The wooden decoy duck was a present from some Dutch friends. This arrangement isn’t fixed and things get either added or removed sporadically. 

Secret Secretaire(s)

Well I think this area is the last I'll show you in this room before we move back down the upstairs hallway again. We're looking at the alcove on the left side of the room. The chest of drawers are G-Plan (and one of a matching pair - the other one is situated in the right alcove of this room).

Lots of art books and exhibition catalogues, plus some tools, materials and equipment from my previous life as a painter. The jars contain raw pigments, which are intense and so beautifully vibrant in their elementary state. I used to make all my own oil paint.

 The top drawer has a secret, in that it actually hinges down to form a writing desk and holds compartments for stationery and documents etc. Groovy.

A Cupboard of Two Halves. Flowers

A slight detour now… one of the doors from the hallway leads into the under stairs cupboard. This is only the second house we have owned with such a space, and I must admit it is quite generous. It is also further evidence of how the house layout has been tweaked. The door entering the cupboard seems to be a later addition, as once inside you can see that part of the wall is just plasterboard and there is another doorway which was the original entrance to a much smaller cupboard space. (sorry about the quality of the images, it is quite difficult to take photos in such a limited area). The original space is seen on the left of the image above.

The previous owners used the newer addition (seen above) as an office and had a computer and chair in here! We use it to store everything from a bike, typewriter (of course), printer, wine, paint, tools, wellies, ironing pile and much, much more! It is also home to the ironing board – which recently survived an 8 hour spell of the iron being left on accidently – I can certainly vouch for its fire-proofness!

I tend to iron in the kitchen, and the process itself is quite ritualistic – I always start with the easy items such as pillowcases, napkins and hankies, then progress to clothing, always leaving awkward items such as shirts until last. I never iron sheets or duvet covers. (but sadly I do iron tea towels). D only wears t-shirts, and sees ironing as totally unnecessary. His mother however was an obsessive ironer – she usually did it late at night whilst watching television – she had one on those ironing boards with a seat attached! it would not be unusual for her to still be ironing well after midnight, (they were a family of six). She ironed everything – including underwear and socks!

For me, ironing is done on an ad-hoc basis, I’ll sometimes iron just one item that I want to wear; or if the pile starts to teeter I will usually do something about it; (occasionally I arrive home to find that my Mum has popped in and decided to tackle the ironing pile for me – fantastic!).

Barcelona Day Bed + Blanket

Still in the same room (as all the typewriters) - here's our 'spare' bed, for guests to enjoy a night's sleep at our place, which is also often used in the day for as quiet place to read - it is called a 'day bed' after all.
The symposium I went to last week led by Space Place Practice http://www.uwe.ac.uk/sca/research/place/space.htm  got me thinking about a lot of things, which I'll write about in the next few comments. One of which came up was the idea of liminality - it's put quite simply in another blog that is dedicated to travel, which I think is the most easiest experience of liminality to understand and empathise with ...

'Liminal experiences are those that are characterized by transitions from one state of being to another. Tourists experience liminality when they transition from a home-based state of being to a travel-based state. Liminality also occurs during rights of passage, such as graduating from school, becoming married, becoming a parent, or becoming a new employee of a company. The liminal experience is one of becoming something different, and is potentially transformative, with a shedding of the old and a creation of something new, but also a period of vulnerability and weakness in the face of an uncertain future.'
From:
http://tourismplace.blogspot.co.uk/2009/07/i-hate-being-liminal.html

I've been going through some kind of liminal experience in each room I blog about - (I and) the room always changes in some way afterwards - the space (of the room) becomes a liminal one (in my head at least) when I begin to analyse it. I think I am going through a shift within myself anyway, so therefore this has led to me (through this project) analysing how I live, the objects and items I live with, and their placement within my home - and, in turn, how this affects my life.

I have also been thinking about nostalgia and the idea of using the old to help us apply new meanings to the future. There was a great line in the symposium which I wrote down. "You can't ignore the past, but you don't have to stay there." A bit more about that tomorrow ...

Any similar thoughts P?

Tues 18 Sept.
There were interesting comments from Artist Jane Bailey who's current art practice focuses on engaging with and evoking the lives of older adults in rural North Cornwall. Her work both explores and generates connections between people, and between people and places, which reflects on the contemporary art processes that she employs including: conversing; recording; editing; reflecting; balancing. She has been working with people who have dementia, and was talking about them in reference to being nostalgic, and people often remembering events from their past much more clearly than occurences that had happened recently. As their long term memory is so much clearer than their short-term, they are actually existing in two places, at any one time.

I'm wondering if objects and items from the past, give us more of a sense of 'belonging' than the fabric of the homes that we currently live in. Items that I surround myself with (in my home) seem to make much more sense of 'my position in the world, now.' I know that if I see a photograph of, or an item from our 'family' home it has so much more resonance, and is full of potency, but I couldn't look at those objects on a daily basis.

In relevance to the above, maybe I should comment about the blanket on the bed ...?

Nanna's Knives. Utensil.

We have various inherited items within the kitchen, some are never used but are kept purely for nostalgic reasons (there’s that word again).

These knives belonged to my maternal grandmother – Frances. My mother thinks they were probably a wedding present, and despite the box being a little worn at the edges, the six knives within are just like new; I suspect they were rarely used – or perhaps ‘kept for best’. I actually love the box label more than the knives! and perhaps it is about time they were put to use?

In total contrast to these beautifully kept knives, in the same drawer we have something that belonged to D’s mother – it is the most basic of implements – we assume it was used to lower eggs in and out of boiling water? I think on average I probably use ten percent of the objects within this particular drawer, maybe it’s time to spring clean?

Sewing Cabinet

On the other wall to the right of the door as you go in, is another shelving unit. On the bottom shelf on the far left is a small folding cabinet.
The sewing cabinet is wooden, and has lots of compartments. Most people had one of these in the 1970's. It holds many delights: ribbons, ric-rac, threads and buttons (some of which are still on their cards). My favourite item is a small needle-case with the inscription that reads, 'Trouble Are Ended When They Are Mended.'(second pic down)