Replacing the sagging lever on the entry door.
The first thing one comes to, feels, engages with, when coming to this house. Not a great piece of design, but good enough.
Once I cared about this passionately; in recent years, I’m indifferent to purported excellence. If it functions, it’s excellent. But it was warped and not working well, so lost it’s functionality, lost its excellence. It started out as good enough and that was enough. Prior to caring less, I would have happily spent days scouring parts bins to make the perfect handle, would have made it myself if need be, but no longer. Now an easily replaceable one will do just fine.
A long time ago a friend I considered important and close until that point though I liked her husband much more – dropped me like a hot rock. I was telling her i was getting a divorce and then i switched to talking about new furniture for my new house of refuge. And we didn’t speak again for years. When we finally did speak, she excoriated me for that conversation.
It took more years to realize that my conversation about design, about furniture, about levers, was also my conversation with myself and the world about my relationship, about trying to make things right, about how things fit together, about how to make a functional life. I didn’t equate love and design, but there was overlap back then.
My friend had used my marriage as lodestone in navigating the world, her world of relationships. As had my siblings, parents and relatives. I didn’t know that my marriage included so many people. Nor that levers were marriages. That’s a bloggy last line, eh?