the wallpaper of your imagination

My dear friend Christina Hubbard is an amazing artist, leader, all-around wise & creative woman. When she invited me to share a post on her blog, I was so honored!

When I was a kid, I loved taking the two-hour road trip south across the Wisconsin-Illinois border to visit my grandparents. As soon as we arrived at their house, I’d always be greeted with a warm hug, huge smiles, and curious questions about my life. And—almost every time—the best-mashed potatoes in the world.

I would practically float with delight across the slightly uneven kitchen floor (just ask the rolling marbles), into my grandparents’ tiny living room to sit on one of the two little armless brown striped loveseats. Outside the front door, I relished playing on the wraparound porch with my cousins or running around the yard as I inhaled the amazing smell of those white lilacs by the steps. 

When it was time for bed, I’d walk up the narrow, steep staircase, my right hand against the texture of the white-painted wall to steady myself. I’d sleep in the far bedroom on one of the twin beds with the matching pink flowy bedspreads. I loved being lulled to sleep by the sound of the train in the distance.

As I lay in bed, quiet but not ready to close my eyes, I’d gaze at the bright floral 60s-era wallpaper. Its intricate designs and swanky shades of pink, peach, yellow, and green mesmerized me. I never tired mentally of looking at that wallpaper, yet it probably helped my body succumb to my need for sleep. The bright colors and detailed lines were almost like a map of my imagination. It was beautiful, I loved it, and I can still picture it now, 40 years later. Continue reading…