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Writer's pictureCathie Rooyen

Bare walls

In between spurts of work, I thought I would wrap some ornaments in bubble wrap. I opened a cupboard and there it was, all pop worthy and nestling between picture frames. A pile of pictures that had been hibernating on the dark shelf for two years. I obviously hadn't missed the pictures and certificates so I started on a now very different task to the ornament wrapping. I took out all the certificates from their frames with those buggery sharp clips and hooks and had a pile of empty frames for the charity pile.



Suddenly I noticed all the wall hangings and put on my merciless mode and took them all down. I was a little hesitant initially, about the bare walls because I still have another nine days of living in the space. But looking around the now, large room, I realised that it didn't make me sad at all, instead I marveled at how large the rooms felt. There's still my band poster prestiked on my study wall, but that can stay there for a bit longer.


The naked walls felt like a bit of a metaphor for my life, almost as if I am wiping the slate clean. I think my inner walls are curious as to what pictures will find themselves hanging on this next chapter of my life. It's all so very exciting.




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