{From My Archives...Originally Written March 2021}
The last few months I have been slowly reading my very first Elizabeth Goudge novel. I chose Pilgrim's Inn as my introduction to her writing mostly because the story greatly appealed to me and I had read from some trusted bibliophiles that it was a good place to begin.
It's taking me some time to read it entirely, not for the fact that I'm not enjoying it or because it's boring, but rather because it's a slow-me-down sort of read. The kind of book that makes you settle down and sort of become grounded where you are, aware of the beauty that lies straight before your eyes. And I find those sort of books to be a bit more work to read, as opposed to a more fast-paced storyline and writing style. Another reason why it's taking me a bit longer to read this book is that there are so many bits and pieces here and there that I find need to be pondered good and deep. I've always underlined and made margin notes as I read any nonfiction books, but never a novel. Until Pilgrim's Inn, that is. I am forever changed and shall mark in my novels from this day forward. One of those wee tokens of wordy wisdom is what brings me here today...
A major theme in this particular Goudge novel is that of home. I shared a quote from the very beginning of the story back in November. You can read it here if you'd like...I'd highly suggest you do as it is quite beautiful. And another one is the inspiration behind this post you are reading now.
She was not an artist in the accepted sense of the word, but when she cooked a meal or tidied a room she was yet unmistakably her father's daughter. A room arranged by Sally, a meal she had cooked, were as unforgettable as her father's pictures. Imaginative, deft touches here and there were like the glimmer of light on water that without it would have been opaque and dull.
(Pilgrim's Inn, Elizabeth Goudge)
Sally, the girl that this quote speaks of, is the daughter of an artist. A wonderfully talented painter whose works are admired and whose skills are respected. But what this quote reminded me of is that homemaking and domesticity are art, too. Sally understood that. Elizabeth Goudge understood that. And my understanding and belief in that is being reiterated all the time.
I am not a talented artist in the traditional sense of the word. I can't draw or paint particularly well. I can't create something magnificent from a lump of clay. And I've never created a masterpiece that hangs in a grand museum for all to see. On top of my inability to do these things, I've never even strived for such accolades or prominent positions or to be a professional in any particular field of work. I do desire to learn and practice many different forms of art, in the traditional sense, but even still, I am starting from complete scratch, and will never be perfect at any of it.
Homemaking, however, is art, too. And the small, sometimes hidden, other times bigger, things that we do in our daily lives to bring beauty to the space we occupy and the world around us, matter greatly. Just as much, really, even more so than those of world-renowned artists.
This art of domesticity is something that I find myself wanting to delve deeper into. I love the idea of learning old-fashioned handicrafts and practicing them, adding beauty to the walls of my home and loveliness to my wardrobe and something delightful that makes someone smile. But the art of domesticity doesn't just lie in the practice of crafting and sewing and stitching and knitting and such. Although, I do believe that is a big part of it...the creativity and imagination these endeavours allow one to dig into is so vast.
The simple acts that make up our daily life are also part of the art of domesticity. Cooking a meal with love and presenting it with care. Taking the time to make your dinner table a pretty place, lighting a candle, using special drinking glasses, serving the food in colorful dishes, and perhaps playing some instrumental music in the background. It's art, perhaps not in the traditional sense of the word, but it's definitely art.
Art when done right is inspiring, lifegiving, and stirs something deep within the soul. Think about when you listen to a certain piece of music or play a beautiful song, or when you look at a painting or statue that someone has created. These things are art done right. But homemaking is also art done right. Homemaking is inspiring. It's lifegiving. And it stirs something deep within the soul.
The art of domesticity isn't just in the skills needed to make a house a home, such as cooking or baking or crafting. It also lies in the atmosphere of the home. The way a room is kept and decorated can, indeed, be a work of art. I think too many times people are discouraged because they think their decorating skills are lacking or that they need expensive items in their homes in order for them to be beautiful. But that just isn't true at all. I think, first and foremost, you need to ask yourself what kind of feel you want your home to have and then go from there. Cozy, peaceful, inviting, cheery, fun, gentle, and nurturing are the words that first come to mind for me. From there, you can go and decorate and arrange your home in such a way to bring those feelings to life. Adding blankets on the backs of chairs or couches; placing candles around; hanging colorful pictures or paintings on the walls; letting natural light shine in through flowy curtains; putting a rug on the floor; placing knick-knacks and other decorations on tables and shelves that are expressions of you and your family; choosing a color for the walls that makes you happy and cheerful; and having a vase of fresh flowers on the mantle. These are all some things that we do in our home to create the atmosphere we want and crave.
And it's all art.
Just like Sally in the story, I am not an artist in the accepted sense of the word. But how I desire and strive to be an artist in domesticity and homemaking. Imagination and creativity in abundance are needed for this work. But also a lot of heart and soul, much cheerfulness and fun, and plenty of gentleness and grace along the way. And a sprinkle of magic like a Fairy Godmother's pixie dust is the perfect finishing touch.
Dear friend, please know that you are an artist in your home. Think of your home as the canvas and each thing you do to bring beauty and light and life into your four walls, no matter how small or seemingly unnoticed, as a brushstroke on a grand masterpiece. Each day, month, year...the painting gets brighter and more magnificent and your skills become better and your inspiration grows. Open yourself up to the creativity and imagination that homemaking calls for. Allow your home to become a magical, wonder-filled place. Make room for the whimsy and loveliness that are begging you to let them in. And then sit back and watch the story unfold...homemaking and domesticity...they're most definitely works of art, indeed.