Wednesday, August 22, 2012
a giant white bookcase
But it turns out, giant white bookcases aren't so easy to come by. So I set the engineer to work.
The bookcase was old and a dark stained wood, but it was sturdy and tall. For months it stood in our garage. An ominous presence of a task still unfinished.
And so the engineer worked. He sanded, and cleaned, and filled. He added pretty detailed molding to the top and bottom and he cleaned some more.
When it was time to finally transform the dark wood to a cheery white, I helped him paint. Three coats later our bookcase was ready.
The funny thing is, now that it's here, I don't know quite what to do with it. For a year I could picture it against that wall, filled with books and records and trinkets. Full.
Now I sit and stare at the giant empty white bookcase and the lone little blue mason jar that sits atop one of it's shelves. It seems so big, so full of possibility.
Sometimes my life seems like the giant white bookcase. It's a bit overwhelming. But surely, surely, if I just dive in, it can be filled with all the color and beauty that I picture in my head.