Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Vision. Or ... Creative Vision

I never consider myself to be a terribly creative person. I can write, but I can't come up with plot. I can appreciate art, but I can't paint or sculpt at all. I remember in pottery class, which I LOVE, I used to see what I wanted to make, and then fail so spectacularly to produce it that I felt no one even knew where i was going with it. Like a child who scribbles on paper and says "car", only there's no semblance of a wheel or a door or a windshield or anything remotely car-shaped. That is me, with art.

We're house hunting these days, and I am finding, however, that there is one thing I do, reputedly, better than others. I can fill an empty house. It is commonly accepted among real estate agents that a judiciously "full" house sells better than an empty house. People are apparently piss poor at looking at a room and seeing how their queen size bed would fit within it. People can't mentally turn corners into offices and linen closets into pantries. They need guidance, in the form of a desk in the alcove and cans of tomatoes in the cabinet. I know this as I am moving around my entire condo in preparation for a sale. Apparently no one can see past the towels to understand that it is, in fact, a pantry.

Of course, it cannot be too cluttered. So, the second couch has to go. And you don't want a bed covered in stuffed animals. People apparently have to think "oh, that's the size of our bed, honey" and "in blue, this room would be perfect" and so on. They can do 35% modification in their mind, but not 75%. And we're not even talking about knocking down any walls. 

My last purchase (my condo) and the house we have our eye on, however, have been bone-empty when I saw them. Wall to wall nothing, with cream walls and nothing more. In the snow, no less. And, somehow, I feel I can see the place better that way. I can put my own touches on it in my mind, without having to either skin someone's appalling wallpaper, or think "Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, people!" or, even in a home that is decorated to my taste, become distracted by art I like. I can't really understand this tendency. I imagine it works to my benefit, but, like I said,  I haven't been the "creative" type. I can make a home cozy, but I'll never be on HGTV for custom-designing my own window dressings. So maybe, more than anything, I can't understand the conventional wisdom of putting show furniture in a house to make it sell better. 

I would love to see a show-house with furniture I actually liked, just to see whether "aspirational" is the feeling they tap into... meanwhile, we'll keep our fingers crossed and keep mulling on it. 

1 comment:

Capt. BS said...

I don't understand why this is so hard for people. If it's not a part of the houes, it can be removed or replaced. If it's not load-bearing, it can be knocked down. If it's magenta, it can be painted mocha. The question is not whether, but how, and with what effort.