|peaks and strong lines|
The first thing Ray told us to do was Choose An Architect. The houses where I live being what they are (tiny and closet-free), many of my neighbours have gone through this process already, but the ones who used architects didn't love working with theirs. We on the other hand got lucky.
We could not be happier. Not only is everybody at our architect's office super nice, and one person in particular related by marriage to one of my best and oldest friends (a nice surprise we discovered after signing on), the firm specializes in energy efficient housing.
I'd be content with walls that don't shoot a cold breeze onto our feet all winter, but now we're looking at in-floor heating and a ventilation system that will get fresh air in and out of the house even when we have to close the windows because the rain is coming down sideways. Heaven!
|texture and contrast|
Best of all - so far - their process includes clients writing about how they hope to live in their houses, which means I was not only handed a writing assignment (YAY) but also a request to put together an image book of things I visualize for our new home. Which is what all these pictures are in this post. And yes, I agree: any architect who can pull threads from all these pictures into one modest house design is a miracle worker.
Our with list features three bedrooms - one with an ensuite bath - an office, a dining area that isn't also the living room, a better entry, a kitchen that works, more light, and room for an elliptical trainer because obviously I am crazy and forgot that this is the one form of exercise equipment on which one cannot go hands-free.
But of course what I'm really dreaming of is a space that has enough space to turn clutter into collections of task-specific tools, each with its own door to rest behind when not in use. Passageways wide enough to move through even when another person is standing in them. Windows prevalent enough to allow plants to make their home in ours. And, you know: MORE PLACES TO KNIT.
|bright focal points|
As I mentioned, we are going to have to move out to make all this happen, and after nosing around listings in the neighbourhood just so see what was viable, it occurred to me that we could go downtown for the duration and cut out the commuting factor.
I'd walk more. My local yarn store would be the unbelievably well stocked Romni Wools, accessible in a single streetcar ride (or a long stroll through textile heaven, in case we get a place with enough room for me to set up my sewing machine.) First-run movies would become a spontaneous decision and trips to the theatre would not require parking or cabs.
Plus, depending on what building we end up in, I might even have access to a shared rooftop terrace when I want to photograph a sock outside, and can confuse a whole new set of neighbours doing so.
Nice change for a short while, don't you think? So I am turning myself into a hawk, poring over the listings for a few select condo buildings - older ones with serious square footage - so I can swoop down when the time is right.
And when might all this be happening, you ask? Well... since the coming winter has a better than 50% chance of being as bad as the last one, and since the budget for this project is already Golly so why bother pretending it won't be, we're thinking January. Even though we don't have to be out till April. That way the clutter packing can happen miles away from our living area, and the knitting space stays serene for the duration, and who cares how bad the weather/traffic combo is because we aren't driving in rush hour.
Smart, yes? Especially if I can keep from buying more yarn (by ignoring the proximity of Romni Wools.) Sigh. It's worth it though... right?