Bedspread

The Bedroom

03.01.10

A few words come to mind.

I see this as the image of a transitional zone, some kind of existential waiting room, not permanently abandoned like the rooms in your Cretan interiors, but not fully inhabited either.

Something about the bed and the window, both of them giving way to shadow around the edges, and the shadow of the armoire, or wardrobe, as well. Like one of those old cinematic effects in which everything gradually fades to black.

The almost military tidiness (the decluttering with an eye to not making trouble for those who will be left behind) suggests a kind of premature (though partial) departure. It is as though she is halfway out the door (or floating out the window).

What is odd is that there is (or was) a very similar white chenille bedspread on the bed in my mother’s (my parents’) bedroom. I expect it is typical of women of a certain age and sensibility.

Your mother-in-law has been in her house about as long as my mother lived in hers before the final move to the nursing home.

Source: clusterflock (blog)