I can spend a day and then some imagining what lies behind a window with lace white curtains ….is there much laughter and good food? do they sip endless cups of tea? books strewn all about of little known authors ….maybe hand made notebooks in orange and fuchsia for all the little reminders and curios hand picked to mark travels to distant lands, each one lovingly enveloping a memory. Art on the wall that is evocative of knowing it all….sepia photographs of where it all began…tea cups in gay abandon lined up against a corner wall to snooty tea pots that frown …a riot of flowers …surely sunflowers? and jasmine? Sunlight that roams like a vagabond, crisp white linen and turquoise walls, frankincense that meanders about and somewhere a glass menagerie that bears witness to all that is fragile.