what falls within my circle: to dream, and to collect

Charles and I have been talking about moving for awhile. We attend open houses, and every once in awhile I fall in love. Shortly thereafter I become frustrated we can't buy, and wish I'd never seen the place at all. It seems that we must keep waiting--for what exact moment I'm not sure: for the market to fall lower, for the enigmatic financial equation in Charles' head to achieve equilibrium, for there to be a burning incentive besides the smitten look in my eyes.

In our searches in New York City, I've become attached to a neighborhood on the North tip of Manhattan called Hudson Heights. It is full old buildings, playgrounds, a park with a medieval Museum (the Cloisters), a good public school, and views of the Hudson river and George Washington Bridge. But once again, I must maintain my composure. While I may want to proclaim my love for my new neighborhood, it is quite possible we'll never live there. I asked Charles the other day for the percentage of likelihood we would move to Hudson Heights. He said, "Uh, fifty-percent?" This wasn't what I was looking for, "Hmmmphf, I was thinking eighty percent would be more like it."

Sigh. So, instead I dream. I imagine up a future home. What I cannot have, I can nonetheless think about. And I can think about how I'd decorate it. This falls safely within my Coveyian "Circle of Influence," if little else does.

I find myself perusing the design blogs, particularly Scandinavian ones. I want to eschew cute and chic: the Dwell Baby catalog that arrived yesterday, for example. And avoid a gratuitous shabby chic. I want an aesthetic both functional and elegant; both grand and humble. In my mind's eye I see something older, a bit haphazard, worn at the corners. Ideally, I want the architecture (and the architectural details) to do the lion's share of the work, which leaves me with good artwork, old pottery and Scandinavian furniture. And a few bright pillows.

I share these images here because they inspire me, and also by posting them to keep them on-hand for whenever we actually buy a place and I can do something besides dream. The photos below I gathered from a few blogs in the last few days (mainly from Fine Little Day and  Decor8). Disclaimers: 1. I admit my fascination with some of these images could be the amount of space (no apartment we could afford in Manhattan would boast such emptiness), and 2. I don't entirely share the Scandinavian love of vast whiteness. Enjoy!