FAMILY FURNISHINGS: A CONTINUUM OF MAGIC
WHAT is a room - some version of which will accompany us all of our lives? Even as we hunt it or build it we seldom halt to examine further this companion to human consciousness, omnipresent as sleep or dream. Some of us, though, are bedouins in spirit until the end. How is it that the room or rooms I live in are always my favorites, yet I never think of them as the final ones - as I would prefer them to be. I even have trouble living in two Remembered Rooms This is the first article of a series that will appear from time to time in The Home Section. houses, as I presently do. They verge toward a common denominator, like any place lived in by me and mine. Both houses and their rooms offer a place to live, work, cook, eat, laugh and muse in - and both are easy on the bones and the eye. Yet they form a kind of double personality that makes me uneasy, as if I'm lying to myself a little. I was brought up to be loyal to one place. We get our room habits from our parents, or in revolt against them. Mine, by the time I knew them, were New Yorkish in the matter of moving but conservatively so - that is, they lived in the same apartment until I was 15; then changed quarters twice before they died.