It is pleasant to surround ourselves with artifacts and spaces that connote use, history and wear—things that have 'character.' The question is how do we do this? It is one thing to buy an antique, one thing to have an heirloom passed down to us and still another thing to build a home with used, worn wood.
I was telling Mark that perhaps all this time I should have been saving construction materials to use in my house. A scrap of wood here, a set of tiles there. I could then incorporate these meaningful found objects into a new house or remodel. Mark's response was that people who do that sort of thing usually do the building themselves (like Ben's idea of making a studio out of crates and pallets). Plus, I realized later, this is impractical. Are you really going to buy 500 feet of hardwood flooring to save for future use?
Mark's solution was to fully participate in the process of buying materials. He stumbled upon the sturdy outdoor tiles that he would eventually (mis)use for his kitchen counter. The important thing, he said, was to look at the nature of the material, not its official name or designated use. Another example was when he bought the tiles for his floor. During his purchase he learned about "seconds," which are usually used for paving sidewalks. Unlike firsts (?) they have subtle grooves, like handsawn wood. Mark saw this not only as an opportunity to save money, but as a way to add character to his floor.
Ben's solution was different. Their family bought an old, crooked house in 'the hood.' As an older home it has some nice details that they were able to uncover. Britton's quarters, for example, has some beautiful wood floors—one floor beautiful by anyone's account and another floor that is stained, worn and extraordinarily rustic. It provides a lovely contrast to the drywall and newer fixtures.
So how to add this wear, age and character to my remodel? Built in 1950, there are no interesting details in the house except for the parquet floors which are coming apart at the edges and need to be replaced. What about taking a more hands-on approach with materials like Mark? Maybe. Architectural salvage firms? Likely expensive and not my style, but I admit I am intrigued by Tap -n- Tile's vintage and salvaged tile collection (they're local). So far I've come up with three solutions.
1. Certain design details infer age, place and character. For example, tile can be used in ways that not only adds beauty, but creates a sense of connection with the era in which the home was designed.
2. I've spun on a dime and begun to think about furnishing the house with vintage, antique or similar items. Less metal, more wood.
3. I'm now thinking of incorporating more of my own inventor-like sensibility into the home and interior design. For example, today I was looking at my old Ikea track light. It suddenly struck me that this is a low voltage item that I can modify it to my taste like one of my circuit-bent instruments. I may take out the metal tracks and string it with wire to create a low tech track system. I like the idea that Sean might grow up in a place that is fundamentally educational, a place that reveals possibilities for exploration and modification.
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