The other day I was staring at the benches along this wall, all shoved underneath one another so neatly. A little too neatly. With plants lined up across the top.
Then we added the living room bamboo shades last weekend. And it made it a bit darker in here.
I didn’t know if the plants quite approved.
So I gathered them up and took them to “lighter” locations. And then I was left with an empty bench.
Can’t have that. Not at my little abode.
I doubt you think the Windex bottle adds to the decor. (I’m not moving every friggin’ thing every time I take a photo! I am an imperfectionist. (Probably that is not a word at all. Which is why I am a creature of imperfection. Aren’t we all?)
I always liked building blocks as a child. So I started stacking. and this is what I ended up with. No rhyme or reason. A bit “cluttery.”
Just a bunch of things with no real connection to one another. Except for the fact that I like them.
Thus the stack of benches came about. No doubt they will be changed around like puzzle pieces. (The pothos plant doesn’t need much light, so it stayed.) And edited and added to and edited some more.
It is deemed “my wall of stacked benches.”
Until I walk down the small hall one dark night, bump into the red bench that juts out into the doorway, and send it all toppling down.