I could never be an architect. Or, maybe it is that I could never be my architect. There are hundreds of details and I, being me, have to scrutinize each and every stick of wood and brush of paint.
Sometimes I get reminded about how difficult I can be. We all have our moments but mine can be more than most. It is not that I want to be difficult but I see things that others don’t see. When we are watching TV or a movie, I am the one that notices that she had on knee socks in one scene and none in the next. In real life Scene 1 and Scene 2 are filmed so on Monday and some on Wednesday, depending on the weather in which case all bets are off for the outdoor shots. I am somewhere amused and irritated by seeing Susan kiss John and her hair is carefully quaffed. Then we see John returning the kiss and her is mussed. All well and good. Maybe the tousled it with a sweep of his loving hand. Wait, in the next shot, all the same kiss, her hair is perfectly quaffed again. In the old days of movie making they had what was called a “detail woman.” Her job was to watch carefully and make sure that the suit buttons were buttoned the same from one scene to the next. I would have made a good details woman.
The world is full of inconsistencies and we all would like things to be just as we expect them to but but that is just not possible.
Each day I look at our house plans and I see this or that. I see the collar turned up on room 1 and down in room 2 when I look in the mirror and it shows room 1. Then someone will ask how I want to do it. How do I want to do it? I want all inconsistencies removed and symmetry perfect. I want proportions right. I want just the exact amount of “traveling space” aka halls. I want every decision to be the exactly right decision.
Round and round and round we go always with me in the center. I am not there intentionally but I am there because I keep seeing things that other people either don’t see or they wisely know it is not important. Sometimes I see things that someone else saw first but I cannot let it go.
The house needs to be on paper in blue ink. It needs not to be in my head. It is time for it to take a leap in maturity and just say, “well done.”
Soon that moment will come. I know it will be perfect and there will be no inconsistencies because we all have worked so hard at this this. It will be a fine home. I will be proud to meet it.