Professionally speaking

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You know I'm a kitchen designer right?
I don't have alot of arty photos on my blog (most photos I take are of my nearest and dearest, me and mine, and they are not remotely artsy). I never really photograph or document what I eat or drink (my drinking habits are too shaming to post on a blog). And while I admire http://ivyleagueinsecurities.com/category/a-year-without-wine-2/ for giving up pinot grigio for a year, I know this is something I will probably never do (I'd go on about how 'life's too short, blah blah blah...').

Anyway where was I? Kitchens, right (wine is kept there).

So, I'm trawling through the twitter-verse yesterday ( I can't even say/think it without laughing. Mike called tweeting "twittering" the other day and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that and laughing either) but I came across the house in the top link on casasugar.com.  I don't normally fall in love with spaces because I'm so numb to how much work it takes to get an interior to the state you see in these magazines, but this kitchen took my breath away. And I'll tell you--that doesn't happen very often.

The real truth? I feel absolute shame for most of my profession. Think about it--we don't do anything really mind-blowing. Can you match the Kleenex boxes you buy to the interior colours of your washroom? Then you, too, could be an interior designer. Learn to wield a measuring tape and you're well on your way. The money, the extravagance, people's over-attachment to how a space should look (I always prefer to focus on how a space feels) always leaves me cold. And sad.

Anyway, nothing earth-shattering here right now. I'm still reading the L'Engle "Circle of Quiet" book, interspersed with the second book of that Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy. (I didn't read the first one--instead, I saw the movie, as I mentioned--I can only do one or the other).  It does fascinate me though, much like spaces, to observe what people like. In this case, what people like to read. And watch. Like The Hunger Games (read the first one only, to weigh in on what the fuss was about, did not see the movie, no need to cancel out my own visualizations). It was plot-driven dystopian 'lit' and yes, as a teen, I may have become obsessed with the world the author created. I loved dystopian literature when I was younger, but my tastes ran more toward The Chrysalids, 1984, and Brave New World. The Dragon Tattoo (books for...grown-ups?) are plot-driven too, as far as I can see. Would make good vacation reads. The detailed listing of what groceries the protagonist buys, her trip to Ikea (I'm not kidding) are all good fodder for me to practice scanning again. But I think about how many people have read all of these books, hoover'ed them up, really, spiked them to best-seller status, and then look back at the small Circle of Quiet book, calmly written from what was, at the time, the author's own utopian summer home, in a world we no longer have access to, except in books and stories.

I'm drinking coffee, catching up on correspondence, thinking about my recent turn against the internet--how tired I am of getting watered-down news from Twitter, how boring people's lives can seem when they hide behind how they think they should be. I had a late night last night, I'm fighting off a bit of the fog this morning.  My car is due to be serviced shortly (a logistical nightmare involving me going uptown to the Forest Hill region, away from my own neighbourhood, then finding a place in the area to kill time, or planning a run in around my car repairs, and I have to pick up a birthday gift for my niece).  So, all that has to happen in the next few hours. Daunting and fascinating, I know.

So, nothing heavy on this Saturday morning. The world, our little North-American part of it, has been heavy enough this week. Again back to the spaces--as a continent this whole place, despite the raging heat waves and rain-less-ness--leaves me cold. And sad.