So this is where the magic happens?
Bedsheets, thumbtacks, and a surprise visit
Usually, I shipped orders to clients or, if they happened to live nearby, I would drop them off at their house. During those busy years, I could never be sure of the state of my home with kids coming and going and the dog running around behind them. But this one particular day, a client texted that she was in the neighborhood. Could she stop by and grab her order? She had two other friends with her. They would make it quick.
I am someone who tries to keep her home in “company could drop by” preparedness most of the time. I think this is because my mom drilled into me this level of preparedness starting when I was a small child. Beds made and rooms picked up every day before we went to school. Dishes rinsed and immediately loaded into the dishwasher. Not a single item left on the floor before bed, not even a Barbie boot.
And most of the time, I maintain a level of preparedness that my mom would approve of.
The day my client dropped by with the others, I believe my youngest let them in. He had been sitting at the desk across from me playing Minecraft. I was so absorbed in photo editing, I barely registered that he’d let them in until they were standing in the doorway of my office.
“Well, hello! How are you all? I didn’t even hear the door.”
“Wow,” my client said as she looked around the small room. “So this is where the magic happens?”
I half chuckled as I stood up. “Yeah, yeah, this is where it all goes on.”
The past few months had been a blur of photo shoots during the day and endless editing in the evenings. I couldn’t remember the last time I had looked around and really taken in the state of this room or even the rest of my house. To be honest, I couldn’t remember the last time my house was “company ready.”
On my desk were stacks of client folders. Each pile represented where each client was in the process of ultimately receiving their photographs. My kids had commandeered the opposite side of the desk for homework and computer games. My golden retriever had taken up post under my desk, frequently coming out to jump up on the windowsill and bark at any slight noise from the outside.
But the defining feature of the room was the bedsheets I had thumbtacked to the top window molding.
Years prior, when I had picked out window coverings for these three windows, I chose woven Roman shades. What I didn’t know at the time was that because these windows faced west, the afternoon and evening sun blindingly poured into this room. With my monitor facing the windows, I couldn’t see my screen due to the glare.
In those months when I was deep in photo shoot days and editing evenings, I didn’t have the bandwidth to make one more decision. Just the thought of researching “blackout” shade options to replace the woven ones I had exhausted me.
So, at some point, I grabbed some old sheets and a duvet cover from the back of the linen closet and thumbtacked them to the top of each window. A dark navy blue one. A patchwork quilt one like you might see on a New England sleepaway camp bunk bed. And a light blue fitted sheet that didn’t hang straight down so, I had to weigh down the bottom with heavy books to prevent it from springing up.
These sheets were definitely not at the level of company preparedness my mom would have liked. But in the midst of a busy season of life, they solved the problem.
Looking around the room, I had to laugh at myself. The whole room was chaos. Honestly, my whole life was chaos.
I handed my client her order. She opened the box and flipped through the prints. “Carrie, these are beautiful. I love them so much. Thank you!”
My current office does not have sheets on the windows, but it does have an ever-growing book pile in the corner. I need bookshelves, but I don’t have the bandwidth to research the options, decide which one to order, and then most likely have to assemble it when it gets here.
I would prefer that my office, and my home in general, be picked up, appropriately appointed, and “company ready” because, yes, it’s a reflex from my upbringing and because it makes my home feel calmer and less chaotic. I can think better when it’s tidy.
And yet, even in this unfinished state, I can still deliver photographs to clients and still work on writing projects that are meaningful to me.
I sometimes get so wrapped up in the “company preparedness” and wanting my house, my office, to look perfectly put together. I have to remind myself that I’m allowed to give my own work or personal projects priority while other parts of my life are put on hold for a bit.
I never did get blackout shades on those windows. A day came when I took the sheets down, sold the house, and moved. And I took my continuous attempts to put a little magic out in the world with me.
What can remain unfinished while you give something you care about a little attention?
Cheers,
Carrie
The more life I live, the more I understand how precious our time is. What even a few minutes is worth. It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend some of your day here with me. Thank you for letting me be a small part of it. I hope you always leave with something meaningful.🤍