I have lived in North Buffalo for a week now. I take in the sounds and smells of my new neighborhood. I'm comfortable here. I wonder about the history of this home that was built in the early half of the twentieth century. This lower flat is spacious with wild vegetation growing around it. Unmanicured, imperfect, warped...my very own brokedown palace. This is my 21st home since birth. Call me a crazed wandering nomad. Yet, living with my familiar furnishings in this a new location becomes an amusing artform...a reassemblage of parts.
In the living room, I see the comfy sofa I purchased six years ago while living in the Westminster apartment. The navy blue velour fabric is now camouflaged with a creamy cotton slipcover. Two pillows are covered in patchwork vintage barkcloth, a sewing project I embraced while recovering two years ago. One square of fabric is leftover from a curtain I had hanging in my New York apartment in the 1980s. I later used the fabric to make a large totebag that I gave to Janet.
I see the low wooden armchair, painted light grey. It is oddly small, almost childsize. I picked it up at the Salvation Army and happily painted it out on the patio at the Westminster apartment. Lately, it is my favorite place to sit.
The large Crate&Barrel coffee table was inherited from CJ when he left his Denver loft for Boston in 2003. It has a 1950s retro feel with light wood and black wrought-iron legs...big enough to double as a desk and dining table!
The embroidered floral wingback was a gift from Lynn. She noted a lack of seating at my Glendale place while staying with me during chemo in 2004. We began shopping for a chair that week, but I did not find the right one until later when Toby and Darcy were visiting. We discovered this cozy vintage seat in a shop on South Broadway and they managed to squeeze it into the back of the Daewoo. I now cover it with an antique embroidered muslin throw found in my mother's hope chest. Originally a tablecloth or bedspread, it was likely an never-used wedding gift.
The rose ottoman had a matching armchair when I settled into the basement apartment on Dexter Street in Denver. I moved out a couple years later in 1996 to live with Dan in the brand new home in Broomfield. My landlord, Ben, agreed to let me take the set with me. A few years later, I found myself on my own once again with little furniture. The chair and ottoman became central to my decor. I eventually disposed of the wornout chair when I was able to buy the navy sofa.
Dan and I picked up the small squarish wood table at a thrift store. Once used as a nightstand, I later painted over the dark wood the same light grey as the small chair I like. It is now the perfect size for my dated stereo. Unlike the tiny sleek contemporary models most people now have, this unit is a big boxy all-in-one piece, complete with cassette, cd, radio, turntable. I upgraded the cheap Emerson system with Bose speakers that I also acquired when CJ was giving away so much the night before his move. It's perfect. Occasionally, I listen to an antique vinyl record from my small ten-inch stack. It has a five-disc cd changer player, but plays only commercially reproduced CDs. The discs I burn on the computer must be played on the oversized boombox that Larry brought to me during the three-week hospital stint in 2003.
The small glass lamp on the mantle sat on my mother's dresser for many years until she replaced it with a newer one and retured the lamp to a shelf in the closet. I refurbished it last year with a new cord and shade.
Items come and go. I could go through each room and trace more histories. Maybe I will do that later. For now, I am simply pleased to be here.
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