It’s two days after Christmas and I am sitting at my wee kitchen table in my apartment in Brooklyn with a cup of joe. The mug I drink from is one of those photo mugs with a picture of my mom and dad on their first ever trip abroad. Smiling at me as I enjoy my pour-over with oat milk and cardamom. They are in Italy, on a balcony, with turrets and domes in the background, the sky clear and soft purple like maybe it is approaching dusk. I believe it is Florence. My mom is wearing playful festive half-mask for some reason, and, if I had to guess, I would say it is liberating her to beam as brightly as I have ever seen. My dad also appears quite happy, which is saying something since he may be one of the most reluctant travelers on the planet. He only went to Italy at my mothers insistence and even as he was preparing to go, expressed perfect confidence that it would be a rather pointless waste of time. Yet, there he is, on my morning coffee mug, grinning with childlike glee. I believe my petite mother is more powerful than any of us in my family may know. The cup says Bongiorno! in italics across the sky of the photograph. I can say without hesitation that this campy mail-order photo-mug of my parents is one of my absolute favorite possessions. If the place caught fire, I would grab it and my custom-made silicone earplugs, my purse and a pair of comfortable shoes and be out the door and I’d be fine. I think I would.
Beyond being somehow able to mobilize my Dad to get on a plane to anywhere, my Mom is powerful in other ways too. I am convinced her powers and dedication to daily prayer are responsible for a recent upward turn in my health, and indeed a factor in my ability to sit in this chair and type out this blog post. We spoke on Christmas day and I explained that I was really worried about my left hip, which had gotten worse in recent weeks, a sandpapery-pain deep inside that was starting to interfere with my sleep. I was worried —ok I still am a little — that my next trip to the orthopedist would confirm my fear that i have some irreversible hip disorder or arthritis and I was going to need seem dreadful surgery. I asked her to pray for me, because she’s the one to ask for that kind of help. I myself practice mindfulness and energetic visualization, but she’s much more sincere and I think capable when it comes to really reaching out and making requests of the divine. She said she would, and that in fact she does every day. I asked her to maybe throw in a few extra prayers because I was really scared. And she said she would, she always does.
I woke up the next day—so yesterday —with no pain in my hip, the first time in about 3 weeks. And more normal feeling—actually entirely normal feeling — than it had felt in months. Then when i looked in the mirror in my underwear, I noticed a tense bulge on the side of my left hip, the size of my hand. It was slightly warm, a little discolored, kindof dome shaped and tense, but not at all tender or painful. I was so happy about being painfree that I kind of disregarded the bulge and just chalked it up in my mind to ‘something shifted’ in the night. Something in my hip that had been causing all my hip trouble in the past year and half must have released, and the result was that the pain was gone and this little welp on my thigh was a transition stage. After running through and deciding a against a few horror scenarios - infection, DVT, etc… - I decided to apply ice, take it easy for the day, and see what it looked like tomorrow (i.e. today). Today, still no pain, and the thigh well is all but gone. Maybe it is the new hip strengthening exercise I am doing, maybe the bulge was related to a new cream I applied, maybe it was my own visualization and meditation work, but I can’t help but think that my mother’s faith is healing my hip. And now, hooray, I can sit down without needing to jump up in 10 minutes for pain. Life goes on and we heal. The body is trying always to heal.
All of this started as a way in to my first blog post here on what should be an entirely business-y site. I consult on interior color. This is my business site. It is new but my consulting practice is not so new. I’m trying to ‘get serious’ about my business in 2019. Haha. But I know myself too well to try and do that in a prescribed way that I might read about in Forbes. This is me, a personal type person, wanting to connect with people who feel touched by color and environment, and who are open to the idea that small spaces are the perfect canvas for inviting color organization clarity and all manner of good vibes into the home and into life. Maybe even prosperity, love, and some kind of spiritual grace. So, welcome.
I will now attempt to segue into something more on topic for a color and interior decor blog, lest I lose you for thinking this blog is all Noelle oversharing her medical woes and coffee paraphernalia. But before I do, two points about me, my mind, this keyboard, and what’s in store.
One is: this may be a decorating blog, or it may be a personal blog, and it may be about spirit, and it may be about health. To me they are all the same, or at least they swim around in the same soup.
Two is: us, you and me. Who are you? I would like to know. Do you also feel like your home affects you in surprising and fantastic ways? Do you love where you live? Do you feel comforted by living in a small space? Are you touched by colors in the world? Or do you just think I’m crazy? Do you too find that to isolate out paint color from home and life and mood and health miracles and family is just sill, or at least too much trouble? Let me know what is on your mind, dear reader, in comments. Anything (authentic) goes.
A space to write. Let’s focus there. I am so pleased I didn’t sell this little tiny table (thank you Housingworks) and chair (thank you World Market) and cushion (thank you Ikea) which barely fits in my kitchen as I have decided to dedicate this spot to writing this blog.
I know that no one reads long form blogs anymore, but I want to write this any way. Once I saw this fantastic bonkers play way-off-broadway called the Village Idiot starring Willem Dafoe, then read an interview with the great director Richard Foreman who said that these ideas came to him (I’m paraphrasing) and he just wanted to put this surreal play and story out there in the spirit of “Does anyone else feel like this?”. You’d have to have seen the play - which really dispensed with most elements of logical time-based storytelling, was full of bewildering characters, over the top costumes, and was just this eye-popping symphony of weird and wonderful craziness - to truly grasp what a strange notion that is that anyone else might “feel like this”. Yet I did. I did “feel like this” or something approximate to whatever Mr. Foreman must have felt I would imagine. So, I know this is long and somewhat rambling, and I am not so deluded to think I have the communicative abilities of the singular Richard Foreman, but I like that spirit and I want to take a risk and try my hand at it - does anyone else feel like this?
I will be re-reading this book this week -
I think he’s wonderful, this writer and psychologist and creativity coach Eric Maisel. And I will be preparing this little spot in my kitchen to be a place that nurtures my writing as new blogger.
Are you setting out to write this year? Pick up this book. I swear that a spot to write in —and i have several— is a big boost. Then after you’ve read “A Writer’s Space” and if you like Dr. Maisel’s style, pick up “Why Smart People Hurt” that is if you are a smart people and if you hurt. And I appreciate all the support out there from you all as I attempt to write consistently in 2019. I have a lot to say about color, yes, and about how all of this hangs together. Or doesn’t. Welcome to the slightly odd soup of feelings thoughts, perceptions, and sensations that is COLR.
Now go and enjoy your apartment. It is trying to talk to you. It is trying to support you. Help it. Are you interested in writing? Do you also wish long-from blogging would make a comeback? Go find a spot to do it in - a place that’s somewhat welcoming and lovely — and do it. Love your space. Love your day. Love your life. Go.