As you know, the living room is gradually graduating to a more restrained color palette than it displayed before.  That in no way means less fun–orange is involved, for goodness’ sake!  But I’m trying to balance orange’s energy with plenty of blue serenity.  To that end, I found a gorgeous pillow sham at a thrift/gift store and snapped it up to add to my emerging collection of patterned textiles.

Isn’t she a beauty?  That pattern!  That color!  That crisp border!  Just love it.  And as you can see from the first photo, the sham easily blended in to what was already happening in the room.  I have to show you what was on its tag, though, because this makes me laugh:

It says, “International purple pillow sham $3.50.”  International?  Like, Indian, maybe?  The vagueness is funny to me, on par with a clothing item having “sexy” on the tag–think “sexy black t-shirt.”  Like that adjective will seal the deal somehow.  And purple?  I could see indigo or, at a stretch, maybe even periwinkle, but I don’t see purple.  Fussing aside, one part of the tag I had no problem with was the price.  Without waste, I “got rid of” a green pillow that didn’t fit well in the new color scheme while, without expense, I “added” a blue and white pillow in its place.  Sweet deal if you ask me.

Here’s the other side of the room.  I keep asking it what it needs, but, as all sane people understand, walls do not talk.  I think this wall secretly wants some art.  What kind of art it wants is the impenetrable part of the mystery.

Speaking of mysteries, I will never figure out why my neighbors throw away stuff like this.  Did you notice it in the background of the first photo? (Finds like this lamp and these chairs lead me to suspect that I have the best Dumpster in the city.)  I just have to figure out what to do to the lamp’s shade, because you know me: a virgin shade cannot last long here.  (Exhibit A; Exhibit B.)  The word “strie” goes through my mind every time I look at this.  Think it would work?  But I guess I better repaint the shelf first.  Most of the red paint I hastily slapped on came right off in the summer humidity.  I tell myself, “One project at a time…” but that’s about as realistic as saying, “Just one cookie.”  You know how it goes.