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Postcards from the edges: Blue House
When I first moved to Boston, Massachusetts, I began learning about antiques. Only in America, I discovered a thing called Yard sale. Where I come from, Iran, having a yard sale is so declasse. But I loved it. I was a student on my own feet... I went to school full time and used to work part-time simply to pay for my beautiful apartment in Brookline, Massachusetts, SOLO! I found ways to fill it with beautiful stuff... Furniture and bedding were out of the question... I would never buy anybody's furniture or bedding. So that's where the big chunk of my money went. To this day, I still pay big money for my furniture and bedding, mainly Basset or Roche Bobois.
But for the rest, I shopped. A few years later, I discovered this thing called Estate-sales. And then I found auctions. So you can imagine a 21-year-old in an auction house. But I learned a lot about antiques, which became interesting to collect.
Arts became my life at a very young age.
I became infatuated with Victorian
homes. I would go on tours just to observe the beauty of these homes. They were exquisite. The woodwork was phenomenal. They were strong. They endured the harsh weather of Massachusetts. They were the real deal. I saw myself as the soul of these houses... Strong yet beautifully fragile!
Years later, I ran into her. I kept seeing a " for sale " sign in front of it.
The blue house was majestic. It was, in fact, love at first sight! I had seen photos of her on the MLS.
I saw it, and in about 15 minutes, I decided this house would be mine. It literally took about 15 minutes for me to make that decision. That's how I am, anyway. I know what sits in my heart, deep. My soul responds to the soul of the space.
It took a while convincingly. My partner, rarely convinced of anything and barely on my page most of the time, gave in... I felt it was the only way we could save our relationship to go to a more prominent place... It should have worked, but it didn't... When two people are not on the same page, nothing works between them.
And when I purchased it, we, my ex-husband and I, the world stopped for me!
The ultimate architectural dream came true.
When we first moved in, I was so mesmerized by her beauty. I wanted to take time slowly. As if I knew I would have a specific time with her.
Sometimes we know certain things, but we keep it up. I know nothing is forever. But I wanted her to be my forever... I wanted it to be the last of my place on this Earth.
I had a great 10 years with the blue house, a decade of my life!
I won't go into the details of my marriage. Things fall apart because two people need to be on the same page. Mutuality falls apart if there are many broken promises.
This is about her! This is about the beauty of her and my time with her. This is about my gratefulness for her. This is about every second of my life with her. And God only knows how she welcomed me. The Blue House loved me.
The word to describe when I had to let her go was torture. I was so tortured leaving the blue house and that beautiful garden where I planted my hands, and they grew...
My partner barely understood that!
She meant the world to me. When I drove inside that driveway, they were two most beautiful cherry blossoms; I used to call my Gate of Heaven. Next to the tree, the magnificent wildflower garden was planted with a beautiful magnolia tree given to me by my deceased best friend. He wanted that tree planted in my garden.
I became a constant Gardener. The blue house taught me a lot about plans and gardening.
I had the most beautiful flowers surrounding the house. I had fruit trees. I tried to revive this plum tree. I learned about plants in my yard. I planted the most delicate Japanese maple, and to this day, I see her growing slowly when I pass by it.
I planted my hands as seeds in that garden. The garden has my sweat and my blood in it...
I had a soul of a little Butler, perhaps from the late 1800, living in my attic.
I photographed the blue house throughout all the years I lived there. And for each decade, I picked 10 images to represent my love for the blue house. Precious. There were many Good times.
The three cats I worshiped lived such a posh life in that beautiful b
We all seem to be very happy and to be honest with you we were...
I could go on writing a book about the blue house. Something similar to the Balzac book, when he described " A Woman of Thirty" in such detail.
I just want to honor her with the series. I want to celebrate my time with her in this series.