The Dream Table

In our home we have a ‘dream table’. Affectionately named so due to the creative splatter of paint, glue, glitter, etc, that has become part of its appeal. As much as I love art, I have never wanted my home to look like an art gallery. Stark walls hosting minimal content begging constructive criticism from an obscure leather bench seat in the centre of the room. No thanks. I’ll leave that to the experts.

In my home, I’ve always wanted people to feel welcome and comfortable. Lazy lounges, stacks of cushions, piles of magazines, fresh flowers and endless cups of coffee in oversized mugs. That’s more like what you’d find in my home. More than aesthetics, my main aim is to put my family at ease and create a haven, especially for my daughter Mannie. She needs to know that this is her home, that she has full run of the house and that she never need feel like a guest.

So years ago when my beloved study table began to show traces of her artistic footprints, rather than grab the gumption/stain remover and scrub away, I stopped and thought to 20 or 30 years ahead. These are the things that I will wish I could look back on to recall those precious irreplaceable moments like her working so intently on making a birthday card for her great grandmother or writing me a love letter on Valentine’s day when she was six. To treasure the varnish on my table all paled into insignificance when weighed up against the dreaming spirit in my girl.

Hence, we started calling my study desk the dream table. A place in the house that Mannie can truly dream up anything and take steps to get there, no holds barred, even if it only involves sticky tape and coloured paper. I couldn’t count the letters that have been written on it or the pieces of ‘art’ that have been masterfully executed on it.

Obviously this is confined to the one area in the house, as the thought of creative mess all over my home doesn’t really do it for me! Yet I will never regret not reaching for the gumption/stain remover on our dream table.

Michaela.