My parents’ house is filled with things. I don’t think they ever quite got the memo on minimalism. Every nook and cranny is stuffed with an interesting object: a find from travels, an antique, a piece of art, treasures created, found, gifted and bought. Every corner tells its own little story.
When Easter and Christmas come along, more things are added. The house overfills.
When I was younger, I was prone to rolling my eyes at all of it. Now, I appreciate the cosiness of it all. The way that their house could never be mistaken for anyone else’s house. The vintage curiosities are not recent replicas or even finds in an op shop – they are the the threads of family history. Things are not carefully arranged as to size and colour. They didn’t read any magazine articles on creating a pleasing vignette. Yet the things that they have on display all work together. These objects with heart, soul and warmth.
Looking around my parent’s house this Easter, I see things I made with my mother when I was just a little girl. I see presents through out the years. I see my mother’s unmistakable mark and attention to detail. The embroidered napkins. The little white ceramic rabbits hiding in all manner of places. Once upon a time I would have considered it twee and a little embarrassing. But as I watch my own boys eyes’ widen at the magic around them, I have a new perspective.
I am thankful to my creative parents for making these times a little more magical. For weaving their memories and mementos into their grandson’s recollections.
These are some photos taken at our recent Easter celebrations (other commitments meant we had to celebrate early). I hope they give you a sense of the magic of my parent’s house and perhaps some ideas and inspiration on how to create magic in your own place.