Changing tastes

The sun has set. I've washed out a yard of cotton that I batiked last night. (After an hour and a half with the tjanting I have confirmed that there is not an ounce of Indonesian blood in my veins. It was fun enough, but I don't know that I could do yard after yard). I had a little dinner "devant le TV". I even made a quick run to Joanne Fabric for embroidery supplies. It really makes me grateful for Internet shopping--you the product you're looking for and none of the squalor).

Now I'm sitting on the back porch and occasionally glancing over at a chair across the room that's slipcovered in a comfortable cotton in a muted green, tan, and brown leaf and flower pattern. The slipcover is an artifact from my "floral period," when I thought that chintz is what they wore in the Garden of Eden and that there was no such thing as too much floral fabric or even too much variety of it in any given room. Mercifully for my eyes and those of my family and friends I grew out of that phase. This vestigial chair is OK, and it sort of fits in the with the relaxed, shabby chic thing going on in this room. (I should digress here and say that this is an enclosed porch with sliding glass windows and air conditioning. I am NOT discussing a piece of fully-upholstered furniture on an outdoor porch!)

Where am I going with this? Tastes change. Despite the fact that I can't seem to put anythings away--especially books and fabric--I'm really into clean lines and simpler patterns right now. I don't know what this is about? Is is just getting older or am I an undiagnosed fashion victim? The clean, simple, spa thing seems very in. I swear I was there first! Clutter, too much visual noise, and poor lighting all drive me absolutely crazy right now. I think it might also be the stress and pace of the rest of my life that's making me crave retreat and tranquility at home.

The strange thing is that this tranquility and simplicity does not always seem to be present in the art I'm making. I don't think that I have a particularly jarring color palette or a taste for chaos or in-your-face design; just the opposite. And, maybe that's OK. From my perspective I'd rather look at a beautiful painting, textile, or piece of pottery in a room than a loud chair that's screaming, "Pay no attention to the art! Look at me!"