it was a day like any other day.
we looked out the window...
we got sleepy looking out the window and thought about taking a nap...
we built a fort...
and then finally, after much thought and consideration...
we decided to get crafty.
i held my freshly painted wooden olive look-a-like in my hand and scanned the apartment for the perfect place to hang my masterpiece. i wanted it somewhere very visible. somewhere where she could see it--where everybody could see it. somewhere that marked a spot as hers. i thought about hanging it above her box--but seeing as i have my own toilet, she probably already knows that the litter box belongs to her. and then it hit me: where does she spend most of her time?
olive is an appropriate name for her for the following reasons:
her pale green eyes look like little olives
she's a big eater and it only makes sense for her to be named after a food
i love greek food and now i have an olive with me at all times
that being said, it only seems right that her self portrait should be hung above her mini-cafeteria.
i wanted to get her posing near it, but our first attempt was clearly unsuccessful.
NOW FOR THE GRAND FINALE!
i've been wanting to paint my kitchen table for a while now. i love the distressed look, but i needed to personalize it and really make it mine--the way i've done with the rest of the apartment. a while back, my dad had the idea of painting a place setting on the table. it was the first idea that really struck me, but i knew i wanted to take it a step further.
so...here's what i came up with.
welcome to my kitchen!
a few months back, i was preparing to move into my new apartment. i was ready to eat off of paper plates and my lap, but my mom wouldn't have it. she spent hours carefully wrapping (and re-wrapping) plates from home and packing them to be mailed to me. when the fifteen hundred pound box arrived, i sat on the floor and unwrapped each plate. seeing those dishes in california made me feel like i had a small piece of home here with me. every time i posted a picture on the blog of an english muffin sandwich, or a pasta dish, or homemade eggplant rollatine--my mom was sitting at her computer in north carolina, smiling at seeing those plates on this side of the world. every time i sat down with a meal, it made me feel a little closer to home.
now, i have that reminder in a place where i can always see it.
if you're wondering why i put the silverware in the wrong place, then i'm going to let you in on a secret that only a handful of people know about me. i've set the table backwards my entire life, and i do it for a very specific reason. i can't tell you how far back this strange habit goes, but i will tell you that for as long as i can remember, it seemed perfectly normal for me to put the fork on the right. i'm right handed, so it makes complete sense to me that i would put my fork on the side where i would easily go to pick it up. it probably doesn't make sense to anyone but me, but i'm okay with that.
occasionally when my dad sets the table at home, he'll put the fork on the right for me. on another level, i think this symbolizes my family always letting me be myself. they never wanted me to be anything other than fanny. even if that meant setting the table backwards or moving to california. my family has always loved and supported me for everything i've done and i know that they wouldn't want me any other way. even if i'm a little weird.
so in my world, the fork goes on the right.
olive did a really good job of helping me paint.