|post-it art (+ my inspiration) by suzy krause|
I imagine climbing vines clinging to the walls of my living room, except the vines have stars growing on them. Some of them are in full bloom, and others are still in that in-between stage where you can peak inside and see a hint of what's coming, but for the most part they are still keeping their beauty a secret.
Did I mention this isn't my living room as you would see it now if you came over? It's my "one day I will live here" living room. It has one of those 70s couches with the spindly legs, the ones that come in funny colors like rust and pea green and sort of look like extra plushy benches. It has three wood-paneled walls and one wall of exposed brick, which is where my planted galaxies latch on.
The wood paneling reminds me of ski houses we rented when I was little. We would spend the day skiing and then we would come home tired, with cold sweat sticking our hair up in different directions. We'd come home to a big pot of chili on the stove, and I would eat two bowls worth and I hadn't even taken a bath yet- because when I was little it didn't matter so much if bathing waited until later. There were cousins to play with, and Cinderella to watch, and there were two giant bowls of chili to enjoy.
My cousin Emily would want to play Animals, and I always felt a little funny pretending I was an animal, but I would choose a fox, and she would choose a beaver, and we would play. Because even though I was young and uninformed, I had unlocked the secret that sometimes making someone happy by doing something you don't want to do, makes you a special kind of happy, and you look up, and three hours have gone by.
One day I will plant galaxies in my living room and I will invite you over for a bowl of chili.
~ Michal S Benik, Spring 2011