Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Obscured by Shrouds

Now Seraph + Splendor have been lurking around the interior design industry for some years now, often incognito, sometimes in plain sight. We have the prerequisite shelves of design books, an overabundance of magazines and swatches coming out of our… oh never mind… We suppose we could even write a stylish and sophisticated design blog that was not full of gibberish about the comings and goings here at our Obsidian Halls, but where would the fun be in that? This got us to pondering where it all began, what cosmic conjunction caused our descent into design and decoration and made us the arbiters... er, abattoirs of taste that we are today?

One’s first foray into design and decoration most assuredly begins in childhood.  Splendor was often referred to as a “creative” child, but it was said in a way that implied “a beastly little heathen” instead of a clever young lady.  Hours on end where spent creating complex (some said disturbing) vignettes in her bedroom cupboards and bookcases.  Building blocks and bits of shells became rustic roomscapes fit for a fairy queen, while doll heads and daisies decorated doorknobs. Being an only child she was often accompanied on her artistic adventures by her stuffed animals, in particular an Indian horse named Boanerges and a threadbare Saint Bernard named Berry... (of note, during these escapades not only did Berry lose one of his ears but BOTH of Boanerges’ mirrored eyes fell out, but he was still an affable companion by all accounts.)

 Moving on to greater and more challenging decorating diversions, Splendor came across a lovely set of Victorian velvet drapes in a luscious shade of faded burgundy that had been curiously condemned to an upper shelf.  The budding young beautifier promptly requested that they be hung in her room as they would block out the sun and quiet the birdsong (such a strange child, they whispered...)  Splendor's long suffering mother had to her sit down and explain that she was in fact a LITTLE GIRL and should appreciate her yellow and white gingham curtains (complete with eyelet lace tiebacks)  …HA!  Not discouraged in the least, she dragged the curtains outside and up the largest tree in the yard.  Upon reaching a suitable altitude she draped the upper branches forming a chic, yet bohemian tented room… well, at least until the rainy season commenced and the whole contraption blew away like a velvety Gothic pterodactyl, frightening the cat and confounding the neighbors...

 This was far from the last jaunt into outdoor decorating... Splendor, gifted from the get go with an overactive imagination created vast landscapes of forts, castles and courtly abodes.  Constantly scouting for new territory to well, terrorize Splendor discovered a huge hedge of gnarled and twisted blackberry bushes in a derelict corner of the yard that had fallen into disrepair.  Now anybody that knows anything is already aware that an area such as this is likely to contain an enchanted entrance to the underworld.  Lo and behold, hidden at the far side behind a tree a small  hole was found cut into the vines just large enough for a small child (or a gang of bloodthirsty elves) to fit through.  Beyond this prickly passageway, a large circular chamber had been hollowed out complete with stumps for chairs and a small rickety table. Perhaps the home of a hobgoblin or tramp's tenement?  NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW for to this day not a living soul actually BELIEVES this story and in fact the dangerous and deviant hedge was promptly torn out and according to Splendor’s parents no such magical room existed and kindly suggested that she find some friends her own age and quit telling tall tales...

Well, this quite covers the formative years of Splendor's descent into decorating...  The next chapters shall include the era that is commonly referred to as “The Metal Years”... but that, dear readers, is a story for another day indeed...

"And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop--docile and omnipotent
At its own stable door."

(I like to see it lap the Miles by  Emily Dickinson)

Related Posts with Thumbnails