The indecent public proposal which I proposed publicly last week on this very blog has been: Accepted!
It’s been accepted! I am so excited! My new partner and I are going to be designing an apartment! The interior of which she has not even seen! The owner of which she has not even met! But I don’t care! I feel giddy! Oh, so giddy! I feel giddy and witty and something like a little girl! Or a prom queen! Or a new bride! Or a —
Does any of this sound weird to anybody else?
The apartment holder (the mother with the daughter) who needs all this decorative assistance has also recently given me an inspiration per her darling daughter’s nursery. Peter Pan. (This mother [the one with the daughter and the apartment] had been given a framed print from the Disney classic which she holds very dearly and wishes to hang in her daughter’s room, should the ambiance be correct.) Upon learning of all this Peter Pan nonsense, the creative gears installed with this particular creative sort, after a popping and a sputtering and a grinding due to a lack of lubricant and infrequent use, ultimately produced the following image:
A big green teepee (or tipi).
A big green patchwork tipi. Like a teepee made by boys. A tipi made by wild lost boys. Like a teepee made by Peter Pan’s own lost boys in Neverland.
And this was all for a little girl’s room. So, picture it: A big green teepee with Xmas lights tangled in the top and running down each of the six eight-foot tipi poles, and then there are pink camouflage throw pillows and a pink faux-fur-covered mattress, all of which are lighted beneath a paper globe within the center of the tipi—and this is just the start of the thing.
But, naturally, and unfortunately, this all news to my dearly newly beloved in all things of a design and decorative nature.
And, this, in and of itself, is something new. Designing a nursery, and an entire apartment, over the blogosphere. A virtual design firm, so to speak. It’s something of a revolutionary concept, really. A creative collaboration without verbal conversation. It’s something grandiose, something groundbreaking, something goshdarn magnificent. Soon enough, everybody will be doing it.
And, to think, it all started with a green teepee, a little eight-foot Peter Pan tipi, a little Lost Boys hideout, a goddamn place where nobody ever grows up, where nobody ever gets old, and where nobody ever has to die.
No, truly, how this is how modern collaborations will, and should, take place. This is the wave of the future. This is how business meetings are scheduled to start happening by sometime early next week.
Good luck to all of you in the boardroom.
Frankly, I am thankful that I'm not there.