Maybe it is the aspiring writer within myself, feeling the constant need to adjust or fix everything, but I have re arranged my playroom for the seventh time this morning. One entire wall is brick and until this morning have yet to integrate it into the room. By simply placing an incredibly funky yet subtle mirror on the brick, it gave the room a whole new vibe.
When I look around I am constantly thinking of ways I can make something better. Always fidgeting, folding, adjusting, and moving picture frames, couches, blankets.
Maybe this means I have completely lost my mind and in forty or fifty years will be the nutty bag lady with way too many dogs who is always weeding a garden that doesn't have any weeds.
Or it is possible that I see the beauty in everything around me and the potential it holds deep within itself. My house for example as most of you know was purchased as a foreclosure. My husband and I have since been renovating every room in an attempt to unveil it's perfection.
I believe there comes a time that if you renovate too much or edit too much or pick someone apart too much, you begin to strip away someone or somethings true character while trying to turn it into something else.
If you have ever sanded a piece of wood, you know you have to "go with the grain". The same concept applies to life and novels and people. Sometimes the "flaws" aren't really flaws at all. It is something unique that we should try to see the beauty in by accepting it and working with it, not against it.
