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The best thing about writing is molding life to characters you find interesting. The worst about it is having these characters crowd your head, unable to get out because you haven't written down the pages for them. Continue writing? Hell, yes. This blog is a way of letting these characters out for a gulp of air. I love creating them. They remind me that there's a nutjob in all of us. Some are in for a brief appearance via short stories. Others are in for the long haul, peppering a novel I have written. Enjoy these stories. After all, life is more fantastic than we imagine it to be.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Gut Feel

I finally understood my mother's fascination with the home furnishings section of any department store. It was not a problem for me to tag along during these excursions. But it was not somewhere I would make a beeline for when I am alone.

Recently, I moved into a new place. I had to start from ground zero since it was empty. Boy, did I go crazy. For the past 2 months, wandering into home furnishing outlets, thrift shops, and appliance stores were my version of other people's regular pilgrimage to Starbucks and H&M. I think even the security guards already knew me by face. But picking furniture is not something you force. It is not a hasty exchange of I do's. I would visit, look, meander, touch, scrutinize, but more specifically, feel if a piece is talking to me.

I have to be happy with my purchase. This is not about buying the best deal. It should feel like home, like lying down into a hotel room pillow and pleasantly finding out it's the right height, size and softness.

Being myself, I started out with a list of things the new place needed and proceeded with mechanical efficiency to get as many ticked off as quickly as possible. Then I realized that it should be done in its own pace. On some shopping days, I could not find anything that felt right for me. On fortunate expeditions, some pieces would pop out in the most unexpected places and called out at me.

Like in one instance when I was looking for a coffee table. Hours of scrounging in several shops left me with no promising find. At the last shop, I saw it. Not a table. But a chandelier. I did not even have a chandelier in my list! I wasn't even sure if it would look gargantuan in my living room. But it called me nonetheless. I'm still mulling over a price I will offer the owner. If it's still there next week, I know it's mine.

There was also the painting I discovered at the last minute. I am not sure why I seem to have luck on the last shops I enter. I had almost given up that day of finding a painting that would suit any of my rooms. Most of the creations I saw merely produced a feeling of detachment on my part. Before heading home, I decided to stop by one last shop. I asked for floral paintings, as that was the one on my list that day. In the process of checking the stacked paintings, I caught a glimpse of a still life. "Wait, what's that? Can you take it out?" Again, not on my list but it felt like I had to own it. It's also not within my budget so I'm still negotiating for it. But when I remember that one, my heart starts to race and I have to stop myself from running back to the shop. I'm sure that even if I think it's way over my budget, I'd still be grinning like a fool once I get it.

Completing my house project is still far off. I will eventually find the pieces that will fit. Or more truthfully, I'm sure the pieces will find me.

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