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contours provocations
journal - 2007-0222 - thu - 0800 journal | archives | home | e-mail Morning Light
Originally, the windows were covered with a complicated set of drapes: sheers at the back, retractable lined curtains next, with a valance at the top and stationary sidepanels at each end. One end of the curtain rods was pulled away from the window frame, and accordingly the pull cords did or did not work. When I moved in, I noticed there was an orange-like thrush on the inside linings. (A thrush that I've found in a several of the closets, so it has to be akin to some type of mold.) My initial task was to remove the curtains, valance, sheers, panels, etc. Later, I attacked the intricate series of rods which must have taken three plumbers, an electrician and a voodoo doctor to install. Have much ado, I finally got them down. I'd bought a triple set of white two-inch Venetian blinds for the windows. But mother said she like it as is, so I returned the blinds to Lowes's.
My next experiment was a medium-priced set of two-inch wood-like Venetian blinds. What I'd not noticed was that the blinds were perforated which gave them an almost north African feel. Of course, I was back to the outgoing light problem. So I bought three sets of white Roman blinds similar to the panels I had earlier . But instead of using them in a folding manner, these lie flat against the windows. Then I realized there was no way to roll them up, so I bought some narrow slats of wood, cut them to the width of the blinds and velcroed. So now when I want to raise one, I simply roll it up and hold everything in place with large metal clips, the same kind you would use to clip a large stack of documents. The window on the right has a piece of stained glass in place from what I think must have been a panel in a church window. So when the light hits it, the glass design is etched onto the white panel. A very striking effect, even if it may last for only a short period. The blind and panel on the middle window stay down.
As the morning light filters through these art works, it creates a variegated pattern of irritated tones and highlights. And for 20 minutes or so, it's magical and phantasmagorical. But then it fades, and the room turns shadowy and shaded. And each time I see it, I revel again and again in the sunlit beauty, transitory as it may be. PAX! Erin Go Braugh!
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