In my house, I like the lights on, unlike other members of the family who will remain unnamed at this time, especially at this dark time of year. Like Psyche, I won't listen to anyone who wants to keep me in the dark. I want to see who is around me! And I love table lamps for bringing the light to reading height.
If I were a millionaire, I would have Christopher Spitzmiller lamps in my home.
|From New York Social Diary|
Being one of the 99%, a poet and a teacher, I make do with what I can find in my small town and what I salvaged from my parents' house. I know a pair of lamps is what I should have everywhere, but so often only one is available, or I dither for too long on say, a pair of sea urchin lamps, that I miss out.
This one is from my grandpa's house. The original drum shade had gold edges and Jackson Pollack-esque drippings in green all over it. It was so groovy but eventually it got a bit beat up. I have yet to splatter paint the new shade, though it has received one flying splatter of spaghetti sauce.
This one was a wedding present and is now on my desk. These first two are real pottery clay.
And this one is on my dresser, which you have seen.
This one is from my parents' house and needs a bigger shade and a contrasting wall colour! From the 1970s, it too is made of clay.
These are a pair on the bedside tables. I love how they have tri-light settings, for reading and romance. And I love the subtle pattern on the inside of the shades that you can see only when the lights are turned on.
Without me showing every lamp in every room, I think you get the idea of how I love electric lights when I can't have sunlight. I won't stand for the cold glare of compact florescent bulbs, though, and I forgot to stock up, so I guess we will be driving to Bellingham soon.
Chinese New Year is here, and pancake day, so that means the days will be getting longer and the lights will be going on not until after dinner, at this northern latitude, soon enough.