I’m overly practical when it comes to decorations, pretty things & non-necessities. Knickknack collections make me cringe at the mere imagining of dusting the things and realigning them weekly. Not to mention the torture of wrapping & packing them if one needs to move interstate or overseas.
So until now I haven’t owned anything I couldn’t see real purpose in. In fact I don’t even buy furniture – my marriage bed has been a mattress on the floor for the last 4.5 years and when people have questioned it I’ve told them it’s good for my back & easy to make.
I do love thinking about pretty things though. If I allowed myself time to daydream I’d think a lot about cars (a 100% chromed dipped HJ Kingswood, rainbow two-pack pearl sprayed HQ panel van, electric blue Monaro, cherry red Mustang) I’d think of white leather dream lounges & red snakeskin Prada dream shoes, fantasy bay front homes with heated infinity pool, stainless steel barbecue area and a timber jetty on which to disembark our yacht.
It was a bit of an eye opener to see and live that life throughout France and Italy. I saw so many beautiful things in Europe that it actually helped me see more beauty here in Australia – like the wrought iron fish on grates at Circular Quay train station, old buildings in Bankstown full of potential, Balmoral Beach.
But I experienced a life changing mental shift on my last day in Venice. (I mean, besides having a nice lady from the US check out my chakras over Skype(!) and tell me what was blocking 5 of them and explaining why my heart felt dead to date – clearly a whole ‘nuther story).
On that last day in Venice I also saw something that had no practical purpose except … “meaning“. Behold, this beautiful winged painted heart:
Old me would have thought “That’s nice, but we don’t need it. Why are the wings gold? I don’t like gold. And how would I transport it anyway?” Old me would have thought “But my mum already gave me one pretty thing for my house, i don’t need another”. (Looky at this gorgeous and practical calendar, my mum knows me well).
Instead of offering all the excuses for why I don’t want any stuff lying around my house giving me feelings at inconvenient times, new “eyes open” me actually saw the winged heart’s positive symbology. I could clearly see the representation of what I desperately wanted to come home to in Australia.
Bringing that heart home has kicked off a little obsession with beautiful things. Not necessarily to buy, but at least to muse over a lot more often. I’ve always been a fan of symbology outside of my home (expect a few posts on symbols I discovered in Europe!) but I had no idea of the importance of having meaningful things inside our home space too. Things that remind us of what we’re all striving for – love, health and happiness. To remind us of times we were happy, how good it felt and why it is worth the effort to get that feeling back again.
I’ve discovered that actively choosing to fill your mind’s eye with beauty truly helps you feel it. I may be a little addicted to my new Pinterest “Colourfulality” – which is what I always told my parents I’d be when I grew up, a Colourfulalitist, before stumbling into that soul destroying blackness of teenage depression and bullying.
As a child I dreamed of rainbows and symbols – as an almost-30-year-old adult I’m now searching every day, hoping to revisit those dreams on Google.
Since coming home, when I close my eyes at night I can see beautiful things instead of pitch black or worse. I now see bright coloured winged sacred hearts, rainbows, amazing buildings and a breathtakingly gorgeous world.
I’ve discovered that art and beauty is ultra-practical after all.