Not installed

As yet I have no means by which to hang my framed photographs, artworks and posters, therefore they are currently resting on the floor - slouching against the wall like a row of disenchanted youths outside a petrol station. I quite like everything being low to the ground though - it is as if I can take everything in if I sit on the transparent chair (reflected in the mirror) in the centre of the room, and 'survey my territory'.

Furniture for flats

 


































So far in the epic adventure that is to be called 'furnishing my flat' I have sourced two pieces of furniture from Malmö's rather good second hand establishments, both very reasonably priced. I love to gloat/share my successes, so I have documented them in situ and plastered them all over the internet. Unfortunately not much else exists 'in situ' (I write this sitting on a cushion on the floor in the corner where the internet lives) I have no tables, no blinds or curtains, no ceiling lights. Yet it isn't bleak at all, having always lived in rooms with filled to the brim. It is nice to downsize and I hope it remains that way.

Interiors (Sweden)

A few views of our new room, main feature our new multi-purpose Ikea book shelf/desk unit. Kris's old lamp, a classic 1970's design by Anders Pehrson for Ateljé Lyktan called 'Tube' has pride of place.

The room has two large windows with both bamboo rolling blinds and a lucky find of some perfect sized second hand curtains in a rather thick luxurious fabric. (I don't want to be awakened at 3am every morning during summer with glaring sunlight, when sunrise is early and streams through our eastward facing windows. However, during winter it has been a pleasant wake up call, when the sun doesn't rise often before 8am.)

In one corner Kris displays his his collection of guitars, he took an acoustic one from his parent's house upon which to teach, but no evidence of this has yet eventuated. Diagonally opposite is a bookshelf housing his vinyl collection, with maybe a dozen of my own slotted in at the end. Moving countries requires much downsizing and I have not started to rebuild what records I had except for somehow finding 4 Fleetwood Mac records, and miraculously, the self-titled debut of The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, which at the moment rests in front of all the others so I can glance over at it and not believe my luck.

Above the secretary which I adopted from the kitchen hang an embroidery Granny made for me, and one I made for her. It is nice to have a piece of furniture where I can put my knick-knacks and jewellery and such, and then fold the top up to keep secure all the daily detritus I deem important in spilling over.

It is strange looking critically at the room sometimes and realising how few possession I have accumulated, even after two years of living here. Yet I don't feel like I am lacking much (saying that, I would like to funnel some of the funds I currently spend of clothing into other endeavours: books, records, paintings and drawings, nice plates, jewellery.) When I think of my room in New Zealand, I can remember having so much stuff, but hardly any particular objects spring to mind.